Can You Keep a Secret?
by ElaineAbbene
Summary: Everyone has secrets, even Fleur Delacour, despite her seemingly perfect appearance. However, when she spills them to a stranger, it becomes a major problem. Especially when that stranger turns out to be her boss, William Weasley. Based on Kinsella's Book
1. Chapter 1

**PLEASE READ THIS FIRST! I would like to attribute much of this story to the work Can You Keep a Secret? By Sophie Kinsella. She deserves the credit for much of the plot and even some of the lines of this story. I wizardized it and used characters from JK Rowling. So, I would like to say I'm not taking credit for their ideas or trying to make money off them, just reviews please. They are both excellent writers, and if you haven't read Sophie, do, she's amazing, and this book is hilarious. However, it is a great plot of how I picture Fleur and Bill getting together, so it's perfect! So, I hope you like it, some of what you see is Kinsella's but all the things that make it mine make it original. By the way, the plot will not follow directly from the story, so please don't worry if you've read the book, you will be surprised.**

Of course I have secrets.

Of course I do. Everyone has a few secrets. It's completely normal.

I'm not talking about big, earth-shattering secrets. Not Lord-Voldemort-has-returned-and-is-planning-to-attack-Hogwarts-and-only-Harry-Potter-can-save-the-world type secrets. Just normal, everyday little secrets.

Like, for example, here are a few random secrets of mine, off the top of my head.

1. My fingernails are fake. Since I'm one-fourth veela, I actually have pointy grey claws, but I charm them to make them normal.

2. Razo the owl isn't the same Razo the owl that mum and dad asked me to care for when they went to Australia. Honestly, I had no idea he needed to be let out at night to hunt. I thought he just ate the same food as the cat and I gave him the whole thing. Besides, the new owl looks just like him, or so the pet store keeper told me, and he is responding well to the name.

3. Once I had this weird dream where I was kissing Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's little friend from Hogwarts. In my defense he was older in my dream, and he was very good looking. He was actually a good kisser too.

4. I secretly think that my boyfriend Andrew looks like Ken. As in Barbie and Ken.

5. The tea room at the ministry is the worst, and so whenever my friend Penelope from level three wants a gossip, she comes up and tells me she wants to run over some figures, and then we nip out for tea at this cozy little place across the street for lunch, some tea, and a gossip.

6. I used Veela charm on the piece of paper that I put into the Goblet of Fire, which is probably why I was picked, not because the stupid cup thought I was anything special. I also used a bit on the judges, which is probably the only reason I didn't loose as badly as I could have. Honestly, Harry Potter, a fourth year beat me.

7. I lost my virginity at the Quidditch World Cup with Sebastian Fabini while mum and dad were outside drinking with his parents and celebrating the Irish Victory with some Irish Whiskey.

8. I have no idea what OWLs or NEWTs stand for, or even what they are. The people at Hogwarts were obsessed with them, but I looked them up in a French to English dictionary and I only ever learned they were cute little animals.

9. While my boyfriend is the perfect clean cut, handsome blond with the perfect job and perfect hair, I secretly have this major thing for mysterious, bad boy looking red heads. I'm seeing a connection to number three now.

10. When my colleague Ferris Selwyn really annoys me, I feed her plant pumpkin juice. (Which is pretty much every day.)

11. I weigh 128 pounds, not 118 like my boyfriend Andrew thinks. Although, in my defense, I was planning to go on a diet when I told him that. And, it is only one number different.

12. My G-string is hurting me.

13. I've always had this deep down conviction that I'm not like everyone else, and there's an amazingly exciting new life waiting for me just around the corner.

14. I have no idea what this guy in the grey robes is going on about.

15. Plus, I've already forgotten his name.

And I'm supposed to be translating for the French people at this meeting.

"We believe in multi-logistical foreign alliances," he's says loudly and slowly as if I don't understand what he's saying either. OK, Multi-logistical, what _does_ that even mean? Oh Merlin, what if they ask me?

Don't be stupid Fleur, they aren't going to ask you what it means, oh wait, they are, because now I'm supposed to repeat everything he just said into French for this guy in the purple suit. And I don't know what multi-logistical even means! I'll just make something up for my fellow Frenchmen, obviously multi-logistical wasn't the most important part of that last bit, hopefully they don't mention it again.

The important thing is to keep confident and businesslike, I can do this. This is my big chance, and I'm not going to screw it up.

I'm sitting in a very important looking meeting room at the French Ministry of Magic in Paris. I'm wearing my best muggle outfit, as I being a French woman know that the French have embraced muggle fashion in the workplace, unlike this other English guy who insisted on wearing his nappy grey robes. It's my black knee length skirt and my bright turquoise blouse with the ruffles. My long blond hair is straightened today, and I used some extra sleek easy hair potion to make it extra shiny too. Not that I needed to, being a veela and all, but it's my special trick for confidence.

I'm here representing the English Ministry of Magic where I work in the foreign affairs department. I've only been working here for three months, since I graduated from Bauxabons, and I only chose to work in England to improve my English. Apparently my accent is still shite, but people can at least understand me now. Anyways, this meeting is to establish a direct connection between the French and English ministries when it comes to working with foreign wizards. Right now we're trying to build a unified front against Egypt who is abusing some sort of international code. Not that I really know much about the entire topic. The only reason I'm here is because my boss Fabian realized he had double booked himself with an important award ceremony when I was in the room. I practically begged him to let me go, and I'm pretty sure the only reason I'm here is because I speak French. I'm pretty much the translator, but I'm also supposed to make sure that I make the point that he signs the treaty document, joining the English Alliance against Egypt today.

This is my first real meeting, and I'm really hoping it advances my career. I've been working at the Ministry for over three months as an International Assistant, which is the bottom level of the Foreign Affairs Department. I started off in charge of sending owls, getting sandwiches and coffee, and collecting my boss Fabian's potions at the apothecary. However, after a couple of weeks, I was allowed to write some of my own letters, and deal with issues.

Since then, I've been getting more involved with the department, even getting to work on some of the spy files. That's what our department really does, spy on foreign countries. I'm really climbing the ladder here; I'm practically an International Executive already!

Except for the tiny fact that I still make as many trips to the owlry, and the sandwich shop, and the coffee room, and the apothecary. I just do it i_n addition _to my other jobs, especially since the departmental secretary Fiona went on maternity leave before quitting.

But everything is going to change after this meeting when Fabian realizes what a great worker I am. He'll see what I'm really capable of and I'll be promoted, or I'll get to go on my own spy missions as an International Agent, aka curse breaker. That's the highest level in the department, International Agent, err.. well except for the Head of the Department. That's my secret hope for today, not to be promoted to head of the department. No, to be promoted to International Executive, which is the level just under curse breaker/International Agent. Then my parents can be proud of me and fawn over me like they do my younger sister Gabrielle.

Fleur Delacour, International Executive.

Fleur Delacour, International Agent.

Fleur Delacour, Head of the Department of International Intelligence

Okay, so back to this meeting, I understand most of what they are saying, but what I don't, I'll just make up. I also better figure out his name, okay, Gary Goldring, okay, just remember he's wearing a gold ring. Gary like that fish from that muggle movie Finding Elmo that my old boyfriend too me to. Or maybe it was a turtle, some type of undersea creature with a shell from something muggle. Whatever.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. My underwear is too tight, Andrew bought it for me and he thinks I weight about ten pounds less than I actually do, and so he got a size too small. Or three, I'm not really sure, but I'm not a double zero. I'm too tall to be a double zero, and for as tall as I am, I'm rather thin. In any case, he got them for me for my birthday, and I really hadn't worn them yet, but they don't fit. At all. But they looked so nice and expensive in my drawer, and today was such a big day. I couldn't resist wearing them. And besides, when I put them on this morning, they didn't seem this tight. I'm such a deluded moron.

Up until now I've been mindlessly repeating everything that Purple suit is saying in French into English, but suddenly I'm feeling a bit anxious about where this conversation is headed. "We appreciate the functional and synergetic association that France and England have shared in the past, but clearly we are headed in different directions and we are going to decline the treaty."

Different directions? Decline? Fabian is not going to be happy, and neither is grey robes guy. Shite, I can't let this happen, I'll lose my job. I can't just let this happen. The office will think it's my fault and I'm a bloody idiot! Suddenly, looking at my nails which need to be recharmed, I come up with inspiration, obviously sent straight from Merlin. Putting as much Veela charm into my voice as I can, I try and convince him to change his mind. "Surely this hasn't been thought through and you aren't being serious. Surely this is a joke and you are going to sign the treaty, now," I say in French with a charm in my voice, my eyes radiating sensuality that no red blooded male can resist. I'm not part Veela for nothing.

"Miss Delacour, this is not going to work, and I'm not sure what your boss told you to do, but that is entirely inappropriate." I stare at him blankly, unable to understand how he knew what I was doing or how he resisted it. Seeing my blank look he answers the unasked question while Grey Robes merely drools and is oblivious that either of us have said anything since I began using the charm. "I'm gay." Oh, purple suit, the too nice hair, oh, oh, OH! Crap.

"Please, don't tell my boss," I beg, my face flushed with embarrassment. Shite.

**Thanks for reading! Please Review! I know that I currently have three stories that I'm working on now, but please note that reviews for this will help motivate me for all of my fics. I also have the next two chapters of My Heart Forever Lies in London already written (MYFLIL fans gasp and demand I post them). I'm posting chapter 17 tomorrow, you love me!!! So please review this fic and tell me. I don't care if you review one word, UPDATE or LOVE IT... actually 'love it' is two words. But it takes a second and makes my day. This fic will most likely be udated based on response so please just pop a message. I'll update most likely when I feel I have enough of a response and I'll write the next chapter then. Until then, enjoy any of my other stories if you like my writing style. One is based on Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and the others are all original with no plot basis except for the fact I used HP characters. Thanks for the reviews, **

**Elaine**


	2. Chapter 2

**Once again, disclaimer that this story is based on Can You Keep A Secret by Sophie Kinsella and the HP characters of JKR. I'm going to veer off into my own direction with this fic soon... but just wanted to say some of these lines aren't mine... Anyways, please review and enjoy and check out my other stories too!**

After that, I screwed it up. The treaty did not get signed, needless to say.

As I drag my heels across the concourse at the Paris Airport, I feel completely dejected. Gary Goldring was quite sweet in the end. He promised he wouldn't tell Fabian what happened. But he didn't change his mind about the treaty.

My first big chance- and this is what happens. I feel like owling the office and saying, "That's it, I'm never coming back again, and by the way it was me who accidentally messed up the paper airplane system that time."

But I can't. This is my first career, and I moved all the way to England and away from home for it. It has to work. For my own self-worth and self-esteem. And also because if I go back to France, everyone will know what an utter failure I am. They will see the pretty girl that failed again. Just like the Triwizard Tournament.

I arrived at the muggle airport with an hour to go, and have headed straight for the bar. "What can I get you miss?" asks the bartender.

"Erm… white wine, no actually, a vodka and tonic. Thanks." I say before slumping down on my stool and running a finger through my long hair. One of those airplane girls with her blond hair in a braid comes and sits down a few seats away. She smiles at me, but I can only manage a weak smile back.

I don't know how other people do it. Manage their careers that is. It's nothing like Bauxbatons-it's the real world and nothing like school. Like my best friend Penelope. She's always known she wanted to be a lawyer and now, viola! She is working for the ministry as a laywer. I just took this job because it was one of the only ones that would take me, and they actually liked that I was foreign. And I needed a job if I wanted to actually move to England and be on my own. And really, working for the Department of International Intelligence isn't that bad.

I heave a sigh and gaze at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. My hair doesn't look as shiny as normal and my silvery blue eyes look dead. I'm a bloody veela! I should look so much better than this. So much for being part man-alluring magical creature.

The barman places my drink in front of me, and says "Cheer Up! It can't be that bad!"

"Thanks!" I say halfheartedly and take a sip of the muggle drink. It just doesn't have the same kick as gillywater. However, it just feels better. I really should owl Fabian and give him the report. But I can't face it. The beautiful but blond and seemingly stupid Fleur has failed again. Anyways, he's probably still at the Flamel Awards. His dream is to get the Flamel Peace Prize, but he's not really that important or anything. So I doubt it. More like Harry Potter or Dumbledore would get that! I think the shoe in for this year is some guy from Albania. Who cares? It can wait until Monday.

I'm just taking a sip of my drink when there is suddenly this terrifying ringing sound. Jumping, I look around, terrified. What is that?! Suddenly, it happens again, almost louder this time! All of the people at the bar are staring at me. Oh My MERLIN! That sound is coming from me!!

"Are you going to get that lady?" says the bartender looking at me. Something is in my purse. I have to stop it before these muggles realize I'm magical. I don't see why we have to travel by plane, but the Department of International Intelligence believes we should use muggle transportation as much as possible because we are a spy department, and we want to be as untraceable as possible. We can't have wizarding records of international floos and such, so we use muggle transportation which no normal wizard would ever think to pay attention to.

I immediately spot the foreign buzzing object in my purse. It's glowing with an alarming light as the noise it gives off gets louder. It's even vibrating! Dangerous Dark Object, how I wish I could destroy you, but I had to put my wand in my check bag and therefore am defenseless. Picking it up cautiously, I examine it. The muggles seem to have written this off, so I feel free to see what this is and discover the best way to destroy it.

It takes less than a few seconds to realize that it opens, like a make-up compact. Hopefully this isn't a pandora's box type thingy. I open it cautiously, ready to throw it away from me as a safety measure.

It stops it's racket, giving me a chance to examine it better. It's quite the strange object. It has lots of little numbers and letters on it, arranged neatly in little blocks. I wonder if it's a code device. Suddenly, it speaks to me, and I almost drop it, I'm so startled.

"FLEUR!?" it said.

"OH MY MER… GOD! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!?" I exclaim, ready to hurl the thing away from me. After all, if you can't see where it's hiding it's brain, you shouldn't trust something.

"IT'S PENELOPE!" came the voice, which I guess now, I recognize.

"OHHH! HI," I say looking around for her. Where is she?

"HOLD THE PHONE UP TO YOUR EAR, FLEUR!" she said. I look at the device, this is a phone? I hold it up to my ear.

"YES!" I shout into it.

"Fleur, not so damn loud, I can hear you," her voice comes out of the mysterious phone-object.

"What is it?" I ask loudly.

"It's a muggle object that is used for communications. I got it for you and put it in your purse this morning. Isn't it nifty? I got one for Perce too. And you don't have to talk so loudly, just normally."

"Oh," I say, lowering my voice stupidly. The muggles are giving me weird looks again. No wonder they all looked at me like an idiot to my reaction. "You could have warned me!" I say.

"Where's the fun in that. Anyways, when you want to call me, you press the little button with the 1 on it. When you want to call Percy, if you would ever want to, he's number 9. I can program other people in and teach you how to use it more later. You should get Andrew one."

"Yes, that would be," I say pausing. "Brilliant."

"Of course, now how was the meeting?"

"The meeting was a complete disaster!"

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Penelope says reassuringly. She's the best friend I have, one of the few women I've ever met who wasn't intimidated by my veelaness. She's also one of the smartest women I've ever known, and it helps that her boyfriend Percy is obsessed with her.

"But it was that bad! I've never been so embarrassed in my life. The treaty didn't go through, and then, I thought I could sweet talk my way into convincing the ambassador, flirt with him a bit, use my er… feminine whiles.. I know, totally blond stereotype, but I was desperate. And then it turns out he's gay. And well, my feminine whiles don't work… on gays. Oh, I was so mortified. And he was rather nice about it, but really, I'm screwed if Fabian finds out. It was my first business trip, and I'll probably be fired!" I say, tears coming to my eyes.

"Well, I'm sure everything will be fine. There are lots of treaties out there. And, at least he'll remember you," she said. Great, hopefully I never deal with the French government again.

"You don't understand, I was coming on to the highest person in the French Government when it comes to dealing with the English!"

"Fleur, stop being a drama queen. Anyways, your dad sent an owl," she said.

"Penny, what did he want?" I asked.

"Well, errr, he said that errr… Jean Claude won an award," she said nervously. Of course, my older brother, well really, he's my father's step-sister's son, but we took him into our family. My father absolutely dotes on him, and my mother, well it is her "_garcon_". He's absolutely _parfait_, according to them. I can't stand him, he's really not related to me at all, and well, I think he's a bastard. And not just literally. He's half the reason I left France. He is always hitting on me, I think he thinks I'm a free ride into the family. Because, well, if he marries me, then he'll get what he always wanted, the Delacour fortune and name. The last thing I need is my parents dragging me back to France to watch Jean Claude receive an award and then attend the celebratory dinner after where he will try to get in my pants.

"Oh Great."

"On a happier note, Andrew sent an airplane by to see how you got on at the meeting. He was really sweet and didn't want to owl you during your big meeting, so he sent an airplane to me instead," she said.

"Really?" I say excitedly.

"Yeah, he's such a darling, he's in meetings all afternoon, but he is canceling his gobstones match tonight to take you out to dinner if you want," says Penny.

"That would be nice, thank's Penny!"

"Alright, well, I have to go, so if you flip the phone closed, it should turn off," she says. "I'll talk to you later Fleur. See you at the airport."

Talking with Penny really has brightened my day. Even if she made me use a silly muggle device to do so. That's one thing about Penny. She has these muggle devices that she is forcing me to use. Like the Blender she got me for my birthday. I don't even know how it works. And she always wants to use it when she comes over. She always says, why don't we make something in the blender, but I don't know how, and I can't bear to let her know how stupid I am when it comes to the muggle world. So, instead I say why don't we go out for smoothies or something instead. She knows how much I love smoothies, so really, it's better this way. She usually doesn't protest and so we go out to my favorite little shop down the street and get some. They are _cest magnifique_!

Just like my boyfriend Andrew. Who really has brightened my day. He's just not any boyfriend you know. He's tall, handsome, clever, and just last week he told me that Ludo Bagman himself called him "one of the brightest sparks in gobstone and wizards chess reporting today."

I sit and drink my vodka which I have had refilled and allow thoughts of Andrew to fill my mind. The way his blond hair shines in the sunshine, the way he's always smiling, and the way he upgraded all the ingredients in my potions kit last week, and the way he… he…

My mind goes blank.. This is stupid! There's so many wonderful things about Andrew, from his… his long legs… yes. And Broad shoulders… to the time he looked after me when I had the Fairy Fever. I mean, how many boyfriends do that? Exactly.

I'm incredibly lucky, I truly am.

Looking at the clock behind the bar, I run my hands through my hair nervously. Thirty minutes until take off. Nerves are starting to creep over me like devil's snare vines. Taking a deep gulp of the muggle alcohol, I drain the glass. It will be fine, absolutely fine, I tell myself for the thousandth time.

I'm not frightened, really, I'm just… just..

OK. I'm terrified.

16. I'm petrified of flying.

I've never explicitly told anyone I'm afraid of flying. It just sounds so lame, especially being a witch. And it's not like I'm phobic or anything. I just can't get on a plane, or a broom, or a carpet, or really, anything that flies. All things being equal, I prefer the ground. Which is ironic, because being part veela, I turn into a bird when I get royally pissed. Angry pissed, not drunk.

This morning was so much easier. Partly because I was so excited for the meeting, and partly because Penny may or may not have slipped an illegal calming drought into my breakfast tea. Even so, I kept having bursts of panic, but when I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, it was better. I read that you should do that in Witch Weekly. It worked… a bit.

But now, ever since I landed this morning, it's been in the back of my mind that I will have to fly again today. I wish I could just bloody FLOO!

I wasn't always this scared. In fact, as a little girl, I had no problem on me pere's broom, or the family carpet, but things changed at Bauxbatons. One unfortunate flying incident first year on a school broomstick, and well. I'd really rather not talk about it. But I managed to survive. Luckily. I know it's completely irrational. I know thousands of people fly around every day, on brooms, in planes, on carpets, on dragons and other winged creatures such as horses.. I've ever heard of flying cars. It's practically safer than… idk.. a lot of stuff. I just don't like it.

Maybe I'll have another gillywater, or whatever this stuff is.

When they call my flight, I've drunk two more vodcars, and I'm a lot calmer. I stride toward the gate, trying to forget I will be in the air shortly. I swing my briefcase, and smile at the people I'm passing. A couple people smile at me back. See, it's not so bad is it?

I reach the boarding placey thing, and at the door taking our tickets is the lady from the bar.

"Hi again," I say with a big smile. "This is a coincidence."

"Hi, erm.." says the air hostess with a slight frown.

"What?" why does she look embarrassed and slightly upset.

"Sorry, it's just , did you know…" she guestures to her shirt and then gives me a pointed look. I look down, and O Merlin. My beautiful turquoise silk blouse has come unbuttoned as I pranced through the airport smiling at everyone, looking like an idiot slaggy blond girl. No wonder they were all smiling at me. My lacy purple bra was showing! The one that is a bit risqué and my friend from Bauxbatons, Trinity, gave me as my lucky bra for when I was in the Triwizard Tournament. So that way, I would at least die in sexy underwear. SHIT.

That's why those people were smiling at me. Not because the world is a friendly place, but because I was the Half-dressed-Blond-Bimbo.

"Thanks," I mutter, doing up my buttons with fumbling fingers, feeling a blush cover my entire body. Which she can see, because well, my shirt is half buttoned, and I blush everywhere.

"It just hasn't been your day, has it?" she says sympathetically as she reaches for my ticket. "Sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear earlier."

"That's all right, I was talking a bit loud. But it hasn't been the best day in my life." She studies my boarding pass.

"Tell you what, how about an onboard upgrade?" she says quietly giving me a conspiratorial look.

"A what?" I ask, figuring this is a muggle thing.

"Come on, you deserve a break, and I can get you a better seat in the business class section."

"Can you do that?"

"Well, we're allowed to update at our discretion, and there were a pair of seats in business class that were empty. My fellow flight attendant who I can't stand already upgraded one of them. She pulled this super-fit ruggedly handsome scottsman up from coach, and I just know she's planning on trying to sit in the empty seat next to him and flirt with him during the flight while she passes all her work off to me. And if I sit you next to him, well… let's just say that I won't have to do so much work, she'll be thwarted in her plan to flirt with Laird McSexy, and you get a nice big seat with extra legroom and complementary champagne. How does that sound?"

"Brilliant!" I smiled cheerfully.

"Just don't spread it around," she tells me conspiratorially and sends me onto the plane with an upgraded boarding pass. Walking down the terminal, I start feeling those butterflies and when the pretty brunette flight attendant and the captain greet me on my way into the plane, I can't even manage a smile in return.

"Where is your seat miss?" says the flight attendant as I seem to pause at the threshold of the plane. I silently hand her my boarding pass and she frowns before leading me past a curtain and into a less cramped, more spacious and luxurious part of the plane. A man in a smart suit is using some sort of muggle device and there are two older women who are putting on some earmuff looking things. Do your ears get cold in the first class? Should I have worn a jacket?

"Here's your seat," she snaps as I am stupidly looking around and she has led me to an empty seat. I must look at her dumbly because she asks, "Is everything OK for you?"

"It's perfect! Thanks very much."

"No problem," she says with a grimace, obviously upset by my being here. She is obviously the rival flight attendant who my friendly flight attendant wanted to thwart. She walks away, and I can tell she doesn't like me much. I'm not sure how long I stood there before putting my bag in the overhead compartment which I saw people storing their luggage on my last flight. Last flight the chair I was put in wasn't nearly this nice and big. Sitting down I realize it's very comfortable too. This is going to be a completely pleasurable experience from start to finish. I fasten my seat belt securely around my waist, wishing for more than just a slender strap of canvas to protect me from death as I try to ignore the fear bubbling up inside me.

"Would you like some champagne?" I look up to see my friend the blond hostess.

"That would be great!" Anything to calm my nerves.

"And for you sir? Some champagne?"

There's a man in the seat next to mine who hasn't even looked up yet. He's wearing jeans and an old sweater and is staring out the window. I hadn't really noticed him yet, but as he turns to answer the hostess, I see he has bright blue eyes and a somber expression.

"Just a brandy. Thanks."

His voice is dry and tired, and he has a Scottish accent. I'm about to ask him politely where he's from when he turns away again, giving me a good look at the back of his head, his long red hair in a pony tail.

Which is fine, because to be honest, I'm not in much of a mood for talking either.

**Thanks for reading this... I can update faster if i get more reviews faster, but I don't feel like there has been a huge response to this fic. To my readers that reviewed! THANKS SO MUCH! you're awesome. Please review and I'll update again soon. Also review my other stories!! :) On a side note, this is the first chapter I'm putting up from college, and I'm excited cause my wireless works and everything! YEAH!!! I like college, but the activites they are making the freshmen do are stupid... i ditched to put up and write ff... lol. Aren't you happy I didn't attend the lecture on fire safety??**

**Ellie**


	3. Chapter 3

**So I felt this chapter was based the most heavily on the book, but after this chapter, it's pretty much veering down a different path than the book. However, a disclaimer saying I own basically nothing at all and it's all Miss Kinsella's is in order, okay, and they ARE JKR's characters and magical universe. Happy? ;) Anyways, enjoy and please review!**

Ok. The truth is, I really hate this. I know it's first class, much nicer than coach, but I still feel like there are a hundred dementors sucking all of the happiness out of me and leaving me only with fear an anguish.

It's about ten minutes into the flight, and to be honest, take off wasn't that nice. I tried to use that breathing trick from witch weekly during take off, counting my breaths as I took them. I got to about three hundred but I ran out of steam and am now just taking sips of champagne and trying to read an article titled "30 Things to Do Before You're 30" in Witch Weekly. I'm trying really hard to look like a successful, relaxed, International Agent type but every sound makes me startle, every bump causes a hitch in my breath, and I'm pretty sure it's going to be obvious fairly soon that I'm sweating like a pig.

As unobtrusively as I can, I reach for the muggle safety parchment in the pocket of the seat in front of me. Reading it a fifth time should really be informative. _Safety exits. Brace position. If life jackets are required, please assist the elderly and children first. _OH MERLIN!

Why am I looking at this! I'm pretty sure it's just scaring me even more to look at the little unmoving pictures in this pamphlet. Everyone knows only dead people don't move in pictures! Dead people and… errr… rocks and trees and stuff. Frustratedly, I shove the safety instructions back into the pocket and down the rest of my champagne.

Attempting to distract myself, I gaze around the room. The two old ladies are laughing at something, the guy with muggle device is still completely involved with it, and behind him is a little blond boy with what looks to be his nanny. He's playing with some type of toy, the looks to be something I vaguely remember learning about in muggle studies… a car! I watch as he drops it and it rolls away. That's what it is. The boy immediately starts to cry, gaining the attention of everyone in the cabin, including the man next to me.

The flight attendant immediately rushes to his side. "Is everything alright? Can I help?"

"Don't worry, he's fine," says the nanny, getting a lolly out and practically shoving it into the boy's mouth. "He'll shut up now."

I'm opening my fat mouth before I can stop myself. "Excuse me." Everyone is looking at me now. "He dropped his toy, which is probably why he's crying."

"He'll get over it," says the nasty looking nanny. I want to recoil at the expression on her face, but I've fought dragons before. Okay, so maybe it was only one. But isn't this poor excuse for a babysitter even going to try to get the toy? The poor little thing is sitting there sucking on his lolly while big fat tears fun down his face. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a bright patch of blue, the toy, it's rolled under a row of seats, just a few away.

"It's right there!" I say pointing. She shrugs her shoulders.

"I don't think he really cares anymore," she says.

"He _does _care. Can't you see he's still crying?" I retort, more than a little annoyed. "Don't worry, I'll help you," I tell the little boy. Convincing myself that the plane will remain aflight if I stand up, I bravely unbuckle my seat belt, feeling like one of those gryffypuffs from Hogwarts. I propel myself to my feet, feeling everyone's eyes on me as I bravely cross the aisle and bend down to retrieve the car.

Okay, now I can't reach the stupid thing. Stupid long veela legs and poor flexibility on my part. Especially in a skirt and heels. But I'm not giving up, not after I've made a practical scene of myself. Without pause, I lie right down on the plane floor.

Oh Merlin, what if it collapses? Like a carpet? You know, if you don't balance right on those things, they can fall through.

Fleur, cool it, it's not going to collapse. I make use of my long veela limbs and at last my hand clasps around the car. As nonchalantly as I can, I get to my feet, ignoring the pain of my elbow crashing into the arm rest, and I give the car to the boy.

"Here," I say in my best Wonderwitch voice. "I think this is yours." The cute little boy glows with joy and I smile, knowing my veela charm has a slight effect on even children.

A moment later he throws the car on the floor, and I watch dejectedly as it rolls to the same place. The nanny gives me a little smirk and I can hear someone else in the cabin stifling a laugh.

"Right," I say after a moment. "Right. Well… enjoy your flight."

Trudging back to my seat, cautiously, I try to look like it was what I planned all along.

"Nice try," says the redhead next to me, and I turn, looking at him suspiciously. However, he really doesn't look like he's laughing at me.

"Oh… Thanks." I say hastily rebuckling my seat belt, even though the fasten seat belt signs has been off for a while. I reach for my Witch Weekly, which I had spelled to look like some sort of boring muggle magazine.

Suddenly there's a flight attendant at my side, looking at the two of us expectantly as she clears her throat. It's the nasty brunette who doesn't like me much. "Excuse me, but are you interested in hearing about our frequent flier International program?"

"No thank you," mutters the Scottish man, who was the person she was obviously directing her attention to. I feel jilted, she should be asking me too! I'm also sitting here!

"I am," I pipe up. She looks at me surprised.

"I'm an International Executive for the English Government, and frequently travel for diplomatic meetings," I say importantly, as if she had asked. Well, her raised eyebrow did… a bit.

"Oh," she says looking at me with newfound disgust. She shoves a pamphlet in my hand and begins to rattle some shite about how I can make some sort of team of members from my work and have them on a flight plan, yada yada. I start thinking about how fast the plane is going and what that horrible noise is, but suddenly she's looking at me expectantly.

"Yes, thank you," I say. "I'm sure this will help with some of our… multilogistical problems."

"I see," she says, clearly thrown by my use of amazing vocabulary skills.

"Actually, while you're here? Could you tell me if that sound is normal?"

"What sound?" she says looking at me like I've grown an extra head or something, which, has happened before. Fifth year charms class… I don't want to talk about it.

"That sound, the creaking, flapping sound from the wing."

"I can't hear anything," she snaps. "Are you a nervous flier?"

"NO!" I snap back. "I was just curious!" I reply defensively. She gives me a rude look and starts away. Hump. Good riddance, I think as she staggers a little when the plane gives a bump. I smile before my face falls.

WHY IS THE PLANE BUMPING?

OH MERLIN! A spell of fears hit me with no warning. This is crazy, sitting in this giant, heavy, metal, muggle box, without my wand! No means of escape, thousands and thousands of feet in the air! I can't do this on my own. I have an overpowering need to talk to someone. To reassure me about this muggle death trap. Wait! Penny! She gave me that stupid phone thingy. I'll call her on that wonky new muggle device she gave me. I have to press the little number 1.

Digging through my purse, I find the little device and am smiling as I realize I have found my salvation. However, suddenly the snooty air hostess is back.

"I'm afraid you can't use that while the plane is in flight. Could you please ensure it is switched off?"

"Oh, er… sorry." How was I supposed to know I wasn't allowed to use it? It's not like Penny told me I couldn't. Besides, Penny is probably busy. How much longer?

I glance at my watch, realizing we have only been in the air for fifteen minutes. I shouldn't think about time. It makes it go slower. I wish I had a time turner! Maybe I should breathe, counting my breaths again.

My counting is brought short with another bump. DID WE JUST GET HIT!?

Okay, it's probably fine, don't panic Fleur. We probably just hit a thestrel… muggles can't see them you know…. Most magical people couldn't see them either…. Where was I? Four hundred thirty seven….

And then I hear the screams like a banshee, almost before I realize what is happening.

Oh, Merlin. Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh… OHHH NO NO NO!!

We're falling. Oh Merlin, we're falling.

This muggle death machine is plummeting through the air like a dropped quaffle. The man with the muggle device has just shot up through the air and hit his head on the ceiling. And there's blood, everywhere. My claws, which have transformed from the stress are digging into the arms of my seat, and I can feel myself pulling upwards against the restraint of my seat belt. It's like my body is fighting off an imperio curse to go up when the seatbelt keeps me down. Bags are flying around, and people's drinks are spilled. That nasty brunette flight attendent is fallen on the floor gripping a seat for dear life. The little boy is wailing again, and other people or screaming.

OH MERLIN OH MERLIN OH MERL… okay. The plane is leveling off now… it's better.

I look over at the redheaded man. He seems to be holding onto his seat as tightly as I am.

I feel sick. I think I might be sick.

"Ladies and gentlemen," comes a voice from above. Where is that coming from? "This is you captain speaking. We are currently experiencing some clear-air turbulence, and things may be unsteady for a while. I have switched on your seat belt signs and am asking that you all return to your seats as quickly as…"

There is another huge lurch, and his voice is lost as those around me scream. It's like a horrible dream. A nightmare.

The flight attendants are all sitting down and putting on their seat belts. One of them is cleaning blood off her face. Not five minutes ago they were dishing out beverages!

I knew I had a reason to be afraid. This sort of thing always happens to me. All those people who said flying was safe, they were lying.

"We have to keep calm!" one of the elderly women is saying. "Everyone, keep calm!"

Keep CALM? I can't breathe, let alone keep calm. What are we supposed to do? Just sit here while some muggle tries to control this wayward plane that is rearing like an out of control dragon?

Someone behind me is reciting some mubble prayers, causing me to panic even more. People are PRAYING! This is REAL!

We're going to die.

We're going to die.

"I'm sorry?" the Scottish man in the seat next to me says. His handsome face is tense and paled.

Did I say that out loud?

"We're going to die." I stare into his face. This could be the last person I ever see alive. At least he has a handsome kind face. I take in the intensely bright blue eyes, his strong jaw, the tanned skin with a hint of freckles underneath.

The plane suddenly drops again, and I give an involuntary shriek.

"I don't think we're going to die," he says. "They said it was just turbulence…"

"OF COURSE THEY DID!" I exclaim hysterically. "They aren't going to tell us, 'Ok folks, that's it… you're all gonners!'"

The plane once again gives a terrifying lurch, and I find my hand has made its way into the man's in panic. "We're not going to make it. I know we're not. This is it. I'm only nineteen years old for Merlin's sake! I'm not ready! I haven't achieved anything! I haven't had children. I've never even saved a life. The one time I tried to rescue my sister from those merpeople, I had to drop out and Harry Potter rescued Gabriella for me!" I feel myself grabbing the magazine in my lap, still open to the "Thirty Things to Do Before You're 30" article. "I haven't been to a Dragon Preserve. I haven't smelled amorentia. I don't even know if I've got a G spot…"

"I'm sorry?" says the man, sounding taken aback, but I can barely hear him. He probably doesn't know half of what I'm spouting because he's a muggle. But he'll have to do.

"My career's a complete joke. I'm not a top executive agent at all." I gesture to my suit. "I haven't got a team. I'm just a crappy assistant, and I just had my first ever big treaty meeting, and it was a complete disaster. Half the time I haven't got a clue what people are talking about, and not just because I don't speak English very well. I don't know what multi logistical means, I'm never going to get promoted, and I owe my landlord four hundred galleons, and I've never really been in love…"

The plane levels off again, and I draw myself together. "I'm sorry." I say, exhaling sharply. "You don't need to hear all this."

"That's quite alright," says the man. Merlin, I'm completely loosing it. And anyways, what I just said wasn't necessarily true. I am totally in love with Andrew. It must be the height, being off the ground, completely messing with my mind.

Flustered, I push the hair off my face and try to gain my composure. Counting again. Five Hundred one. Five Hundred…. OH MERLIN OH MERLIN! The pane is plummeting again!

I've never done anything to make my parents proud of me…" The words come spilling out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Never."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"It's true. I made Bauxbatons champion, but then I lost… to a fourteen year old! And maybe they were proud of me before Jean Claude came along, my father's step sister's son, who pretty much lives with us, trying to money in on the family fortune. He was Fifteen when he came to live with us, and I was twelve. I thought it was going to be great, you know. An older brother, to protect me from the lecherous looks I was already getting from the boys at school. But it didn't work out like that… " I just can't stop talking.

Every time the plane jumps or jolts, another torrent of words come rushing out of my mouth, like word vomit.

"He was quidditch captain, and gobstones captain, and prefect, and Head Boy, and I was just… nothing in comparison. He's been obsessed with me and him getting together since I can remember, but that would be utterly repulsive. Not that he isn't good looking, but, honestly."

"…Triwizard Tournament… I honestly thought it was going to change my life… eternal fame and recognition, well my recognition is that while I managed not to die, I lost monumentally, to a boy three years my junior. I couldn't even save Gabi!..."

"…Gabi is the baby, so mama and papa love her a bit more, but that's understandable. But then since Jean Claude came along, it's like I don't even exist. They didn't even come to half the tasks for the tournament, but they would never miss a single one of Jean Claude's little dinner parties that he has to make himself seem important, almost every other week!..."

"…Told Andrew I was 118 pounds, not 128 like I really am. Although, I was planning on going on a diet when I told him that…"

"…wanted to prove I could do something besides look pretty, thought I could get a job in England and everyone would see how successful and wonderful I could be on my own, without the Delacour name…"

"….I applied for every single job in England. I was so desperate, I even applied to a modeling agency, and you know what they told me? They don't take part veelas…."

"…At work there's this awful girl called Ferris. This new desk arrive the other day, and she just took it, even though I've got this really grotty little desk…"

"….sometimes I water her stupid flitterbloom with pumpkin juice, just to serve her right…"

"… sweet girl, Penny, who works on level three. We have this secret code where she comes in and says, "Can I go over some numbers with you, Fleur?" and we go and get tea and have a gossip…"

"The tea room at the ministry is the most disgusting stuff you've ever drunk, absolute poison. So we usually nip out to this muggle place across the street…"

"…I faked a transfiguration grade on my CV… Put Transfiguration Advanced Level grade E on my CV when I really only got an Acceptable. I know it was dishonest, and I shouldn't have done it… But I SO wanted to get a job, and really, it's not like they ask me to do transfiguration at the ministry anyways…"

What is happening to me? Normally there is a kind of filter that stops me from blurting everything I'm thinking, but apparently it has stopped working. It's this huge random stream of word vomit I can't stop.

"Sometimes I think I believe Harry Potter, because how else did Cedric die? But then I think, but what other evidence is there, and could the ministry really be that dumb?..."

"…wear G-strings because they don't give you visible panty lines, but they're SO uncomfortable…"

"…Size zero…. And I didn't know what to do so I told him…. Wow these are absolutely magnifique…."

"…bouillabaisse, my complete favorite food…. Besides of course sweets, which of course chocolate is my favorite, especially chocoballs, filled with strawberry, cherry, or orange cream…."

"….I gave him all the cat food. I honestly didn't know you had to let him out to hunt!..."

"….perfect date would start off with champagne just appearing at the table… by magic of course…"

I'm unaware of anything around us. The world around us has ceased to exist, and is entirely composed of me and my Scottish Stranger. And of course my mouth which is spewing my innermost thoughts and secrets.

"… his name was Sebastian Fabini. Mum and dad were right outside the tent with his parents, celebrating the Irish Victory with some Irish whiskey, and I remember thinking that if this is what the world gets so excited about, then the world's mad…"

"… lie on my side, because I read in Witch Weekly, it makes your cleavage look bigger…"

"… works in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I remember thinking the first time I saw him, Wow, he's good looking. He's very tall and blond, because he's half Veela, and he has these amazing blue eyes. So he asked me out…"

"… always have a gillywater before at date to calm my nerves, I know it's the dorkiest drink ever, but I love it…"

"…He's wonderful. Andrew's completely wonderful. He's sweet, and he's good, and he's successful, and everyone calls us the perfect couple…"

"…I'd never tell anyone this in a million years, but sometimes I think he's almost too good-looking. A bit like one of those muggle dolls? Like Ken. Like a blond Ken."

And now that I'm talking about Andrew, I'm saying things I've never said to anyone, not even myself.

"… gave him this lovely leather briefcase for Christmas, but he carries this horrible orange thing because it has a chess board print on the inside, and he can sneak in a game or two in the office or something…"

"…took me to all these Celestina Warback concerts, and I pretended to enjoy them to be polite, so now he thinks I love her…"

"…every single Celestina Warback line off by heart and sings each line in this girly voice, and it drives me crackers…"

"… determined to find my G spot, so we spent the whole weekend doing it in different positions, and by the end of it, I was just knackered. All I wanted was a cup of tea and some chocolate with a good book…"

"…he kept asking, What was it like, what was it like? So I made some stuff up, and I said it was absolutely magnifique and it felt as thought my whole body was opening up like a flower, and he said what sort of flower, and all I could remember from Herbology class was a fanged geranium! They are VIOLENT!"

"…can't expect the initial passion to last, but how dod you tell if the passion's faded in a good, long-term-commitment way or in a crap, we-don't-fancy-each-other-anymore way…"

"…auror in shining golden robes is not a realistic option, but there's part of me that wants a huge amazing romance. I want passion. I want to be swept off my feet, I want an earthquake, or a… I don't know, a huge whirlwind… something exciting. Sometimes I feel as if there's this whole new, thrilling life waiting for me out there, and if I can just…"

"Excuse me miss?"

"What?" I look up dazedly. "What is it?" The nice flight attendant, the blond one, is smiling down at me.

"We've landed."

"We've LANDED?" How can we have have landed? I look around and sure enough, there is land outside the window. The plane is still, no longer bumping like mad. We're on the ground.

I feel like I did the first time I apparated, and had to check to make sure all my limbs were still intact and I hadn't splinched myself.

"We aren't bumping anymore," I point out stupidly.

"We stopped bumping quite a while ago," says the Scottish stranger.

"We're… we're not going to die."

"We're not going to die," he agrees with a lopsidedly charming smile.

I look at him as though for the first time, and suddenly it hits me. I've been blabbering nonstop this whole time to a complete stranger. A MUGGLE STRANGER! Merlin alone knows what I've been saying.

"I'm sorry, you should have stopped me!"

"That would have been a little difficult," there's that lopsided grin again. "You were on a bit of a roll," he says. I'm frantically thinking of how to obliviate him without my wand.

"I'm so embarrassed!" I smile using every bit of my hypnotizing veela charm. A kiss from a full blood veela can make a man forget his entire life, leave it behind to go with her. I'm only part, but it should be enough for a mere muggle to forget the past hour. I mean… I told him about my knickers, I told him about my G spot. My entire body is flushed with a bright red blush.

"Don't worry about it, we were all stressed out. That was some flight." He pauses. "Are you okay to get home?" He probably thinks I'm nutters, going on about all this magical stuff too.

I grab my briefcase, and prepare to leave as much as I can. I get to my feet, stumbling a little from nerves. He stands too, he's very tall. "I'll be fine thanks!" I say shrilly.

"You're sure you're okay?" he askes, his deep voice with the slight burr in it is unbelievably nerve wracking considering what I'm about to do.

"Yes, thanks," I say lurching forward and pressing my lips to his. He is too stunned to kiss back at first, but I feel a zing nevertheless. It was never this electric with Andrew. Merlin, he smells nice too. His hands are in my hair, running through the silky softness of it, and I'm pulling his red hair out of that pony tail, and it actually is as soft as it looks. I could never get used to kissing like this, it's way to exhilarating. This is what the world gets so excited about. It's like I always imagined it, but never quite got. Realizing that I don't want him to forget the past week, I pull away abruptly, ignoring the protests in my mind.

I look briefly at him, and he looks appropriately dazed. I smile with as much of my dazzling veela charm and walk off the plane.

As I step onto the solid ground in the airport, the relief hits me. I'm alive, I'm safe. I make my way to baggage claim, get my small suitcase that holds my wand and some magical items that I wasn't supposed to bring on the plane with me, as well as an extra set of robes and things for emergencies. I feel sweaty, my hair is a mess, and my head is starting to throb. I open it quickly and discreetly dig out my wand, casting a quick cooling charm on my body, along with a cleaning charm to make me feel a little better. I spell out the wrinkles of my clothes, and fix my hair with a quick wave in the bathroom stall. In the bathroom, I manage to pull myself together. Horrible plane ride, bumps, secrets, and entirely inappropriate kissing. It's a blur in customs, but I manage to confound the man who is looking through my things with just a smile full of Veela Charm.

"FLEUR!" I hear someone call me as I come out of Arrivals. I look up, how many Fleurs do you know?

"Fleur! Over here!"

It's Andrew. He looks breathtakingly handsome. His sparkly veela aura, his golden hair, his eyes, bluer than ever, and he's running toward me. Why? What is he doing here? As he reaches me, I've ceased to move upon seeing him, he pulls me to him tightly.

"Thank Merlin! Are you OK?"

"Andrew, what are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd surprise you, and then I heard your flight hit turbulence, and I watched your plane land, and they sent a bunch of those muggle healers out to it. Then you didn't come out… I thought…" he looks distraught. "I don't know exactly what I thought…"

"I'm fine. I was just trying to get myself together. I made a quick trip to the loo." My voice is a bit shaky. "At one point I honestly thought I was going to die."

"When you didn't come through the barrier…" Andrew looks at me intensely, causing me to fidget. "I think I realized for the first time quite how deeply I feel about you."

"Really?" I ask. Stunned.

"Fleur… I think we should…"

Get married? My heart flutters in fear. Oh, my Merlin. He's going to ask me to marry him? In this horrid muggle airport. I'm not ready to get married. What am I going to say? I mean, I just said all that horrible stuff on the plane about him… I wasn't in my right state of mind, but… what am I going to say? I can't say no, but I can't say yes!

"…move in together," he finishes, causing me to sigh in relief. Well of course. Obviously he wasn't going to ask me to marry him.

"What do you think?" he asks stroking my hair.

"Erm…." I rub my face nervously, unable to think right. Move it with Andrew. It kinda makes sense. I mean… I do owe too much on my apartment, I can't really afford it on my salary.

All at once, the things I said on the plane flood back to me. Something about my never having being properly in love. Something about Andrew not understanding me. But then.. that was just drivel. I mean, I thought I was going to die. I wasn't lucid.

"What about that big match?" I say suddenly recalling some game he had tonight.

"I postponed it."

"You postponed it? For me?" I feel really wobbly now. My legs are barely holding me up. I don't know if it's the aftermath of the flight, love, or the fact I had a bit too much muggle booze.

He's so tall, and handsome, and he postponed a gobstones game, and he wants to move in with me. "I'd love to move in with you Andrew," and to my utter astonishment and embarrassment, burst into tears.

**Yup, that's it, a mere 5,000 words. Sorry... hope it's a good holiday present since I haven't updated this one recently. I would LOVE lots of reviews, so please humor me. Hope to hear from you soon, and I should update something soon.... :) I'm doing my best**

**Ellie**


	4. Chapter 4

**Once again, all characters and the wizarding world belong to JK rowling, and the story and several of the lines to Ms Kinsella! Enjoy the chapter!! :)**

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of rain on the windowpane. Merlin, I hate England sometimes, especially the bloody weather.

"Morning!" I hear Andrew say cheerily.

"Morning," I mumble, keeping my eyes firmly shut and wishing the rain away. My hair is sure to frizz out. I don't care if I'm a veela... this is England... sure to ruin my good looks.

"Tea?" he asks.

"Yes, please."

Something is nagging at the back of my head. What am I forgetting… it's Saturday Morning. I'm in Andrew's flat where we came after we went out for dinner in Diagon Alley. I couldn't possibly forget that Merlin-awful plane ride,--- OH! That's right. Andrew asked me to move in with him.

He comes in wearing a fluffy white dressing gown carrying to mugs of tea. He hands me one with a sweet smile. He looks so angelic wearing the white, with his shining blond hair, and his perfectly tanned skin and blue eyes. It's almost creepy, except, I'm fairly sure that I probably look a bit creepy too. I think being perfectly veela looking all the time is a bit creepy… not to mention tiresome. "How are you feeling" he asks sitting on the bed beside me.

"All right," I say hesitantly. "So. we're…. going to live together?"

"If you're still in for it?" he says perhaps sensing my hesitation.

"Of course. Of course I am!" I smile brightly, but can't help but feel it's fake. I want this! I really do. I am turning into a grown up overnight. I'm moving in with my boyfriend! Finally my life is going the way it should.

"I'll have to give Connor notice…" Andrew gestures to the general area of his flatmate's room.

"OK…" I say, Merlin, this is SERIOUS!

"And we'll have to find the right place. And you'll have to promise to keep it tidy." He gives me a teasing flash of teeth. What the Hogwarts!? That's so…. Soo….. MALE of him to expect me to do all the housework. He could learn a good cleaning charm or two! I simply frown slightly into my tea. I could go for a bagel.

There's a pause, as though he doesn't even realize he has said something offending, and we both take a sip of tea. I think he doesn't even realize I mind when he says stuff like that. I think it's because he's part veela too, and just expects all women to agree with whatever he says. I however am ALSO part veela, and so I'm pretty much immune to his charms.

"So anyways," he says after a while. "I should get going. I have a match to cover in Wales. I'm sorry I will miss your parents."

And he really is. I mean, as if he weren't already the perfect boyfriend, he actually LIKES visiting my parents.

"That's OK, it doesn't matter in the least."

"OHHH!" he exclaims suddenly as he's half way out the door. "I forgot to tell you!" He grabs his wand and summons a little envelope. "Guess what I got us tickets for!"

"Oooh!" I say excitedly. "Um…" I'm about to say 'The Quidditch World Cup!' but he beats me to it.

"THE CELESTINA WARBACK CONCERT!" grins Andrew. "It's her last concert in England for a YEAR!"

For a moment I can't quite make my vocal cords work. "Wow," I manage at last. "Celestina… Warback…"

"I knew you would be thrilled!" Andrew kisses my forehead affectionately.

"Oh, I am," I say, knowing my sarcasm is always lost on Andrew. The thing is, I'm sure one day I really will like Celestina… I will. All old witches like her… and my boyfriend apparently.

He quick throws on some clothes and a set of robes, grabbing his hideous orange briefcase. As he is just ready to leave, something lacy catches his eye. "You wore my present," he notices happily.

"I…. wear them all the time!" I say crossing my toes. "They are lovely."

"I'm glad you like them," he says coming to the bed to kiss me. However, he hesitates. "Fleur," he says. I look into his blue eyes full of question. He prattles on. "there's something I wanted to say…" He bites his lip. "You know we always speak frankly to each other about our relationship." I nod, too stunned to speak. One minute we're moving in together, and now…. What? "This is just… and idea…. You may not like it… I mean… it's completely up to you…" What is he so fidgety for? Oh My Merlin… is he going to start getting kinky? Does he want me to dress up in outfits and stuff, or call him daddy and let him spank me? I wouldn't mind being a nurse actually. Or Wonderwitch…. That would be cool. I could get some shiny boots, a big red silk cloak.

"I was thinking…. Perhaps… we could…" he stops. I gesture for him to continue impatiently. Get to the part were I get to buy new clothes! "We could start calling each other 'honey'."

"What?" I say stunned.

"It's just that….well, we're going to be living together, and it's quite the commitment. And I noticed recently, we never seem to use any terms of endearment."

I stare at him. "Don't we?"

"No."

"Oh…" I take a sip of my tea wondering about it. He's right. We don't…. why don't we?

"So, how do u feel about it?" he presses.

"Absolutely!I mean, you're right! Of course we should." I clear my throat. "Honey."

"Thanks, Honey," he replies lovingly, and I smile at him trying to ignore the multitude of protesting voices in my head.

This doesn't feel right.

I don't feel like a honey.

'Honey' is something you drizzle over biscuits or use to sweeten your tea. It's something bees make and bears like to steal. It's a 23 year old girls' name who works as a stripper to make some extra cash to support her addictions.

I am not a 'honey'.

"Fleur?" Andrew looks perturbed. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm not sure." I give a flitting self conscious laugh. "I just don't know if I feel like a 'honey'. But, you know. It may grow on me."

"Really? Well I could use something else. What about 'sugar'?"

SUGAR? Is he quite right in the head?

"No," I say quickly. "I think 'honey' is better."

"Or… 'sweetheart'….'tootsie'…'precious'…"

"Maybe… Look… can we just settle for 'honey' then?" I mean, what is with all these pet names. Sweetheart… Sugar… honey… TOOTSIE! I mean… those all sound like things you want to eat… and I'm sure precious is just weird. I swear I read a muggle book once where this freakly little troll called some equally freaky evil ring "PRECIOUS"…. UGG!

Andrew looks a little upset. I had better rectify the situation. "Have a great time at the gobstones match, Honey."

"See you later, honey," he says, a smile once more gracing his handsome face. All good has been restored….

* * *

It takes a second to floo home, and unsurprisingly, in true Saturday morning fashion, I find my best friend and flat mate Audrey Flourish sitting on the sofa doing something. She's always busy. Her family owns a bookstore, and she's going to take it over one day. She's always reading a new book (which I sometimes think is for mere pleasure) or doing the accounts or working on the inventory. She went to Hogwarts, and we met during the triwizard tournament. She's a very sweet girl. She can be quiet and studious and proper-like, but she's got this amazingly crazy-scatterbrained-fun-loving Audrey side to her that is just darling. She is one of the most accepting and loving people I've ever known, while I have known her to be absolutely horrid to her enemies. You don't want to get on her bad side. I must say she has one of the most contradicting personalities, but I absolutely love her. If we both didn't have such a thing for the male counterpart of our species, particularly red headed ones…. I think we could have made a very nice lesbian pair…. If either of had happened to swing that way, which we don't.

She's scribbling something on a notepad while reading something on the tea table. "Inventory?" I ask sympathetically.

"Err… no, it's not store stuff, it's this article." She picks up a glossy magazine with a guilty look on her face. "I have to do that pile of receipts later," she points to a box brimming with little pieces of paper. "It says since the days of some ancient muggle lady that the proportions of beauty have been the same. Apparently there's a way to work out how beautiful you are scientifically. You do all these measurements…."

"Oh right!" I say interested. I want to take this! "So, what are you?"

"I'm just adding it up. I had to make up a spell to do all the measurements for me first and…" she frowns at the paper. "That makes fifty seven, subtract twenty… makes… OH MY MERLIN!" She stares at the paper in abject horror. "I only got a thirty-seven!"

"Out of what?" I ask, my mouth full of pastry that I had snagged off the table.

"A hundred! Thirty seven out of a bloody hundred!"

"Oh, Audrey! That's crap!"

"I know," she says sadly. "I'm ugly. I knew it. You know, all my life, I've kind of secretly known… but…."

"No!" I exclaim trying desperately not to choke on my pastry by laughing. "I meant the magazine's crap! It's probably muggle, am I right? You can't measure beauty with some stupid index! Just LOOK at you!" And I'm serious.

I give credit where credit is due. Audrey has this gorgeous deep red hair, not an orangey red, a fire red, almost like Ariel from that muggle movie, except it doesn't look like a red crayon quite that much. It has the perfect amount of curl at the ends and body near the roots. It never looks less than perfect, and it is never frizzy or flat. It's literally PERFECT. She's got these warm chocolate brown eyes with the longest eyelashes. Her face is nothing shy of gorgeous, and she even has perfect skin. Not even a freckle, and she's a redhead. Nope, her skin is a perfect ivory. I am almost sure there must have been a veela in her heritage, but her family is considered one of the purest, oldest wizarding families. So for at least thirty generations or so, no veelas. I'm not entirely convinced.

"I mean, who are you going to believe?! The mirror or some stupid, mindless, muggle, magazine article?"

"A stupid, mindless, muggle, magazine article," moans Audrey as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. I'm sure she's half joking, but ever since boyfriend, pureblooded, wealthy, quidditch star, Marcus Flint, dumped her about two months ago, she's had really low self esteem. It doesn't help that her parents are really pressuring her to find a nice pureblooded boy to settle down with and make nice pureblooded babies. I didn't think Marcus Flint a very nice or attractive or smart guy to begin with, entirely undeserving of someone like Audrey, but to have dumped her… he is an utter moron.

"Is that the golden proportion of beauty?" says our other flatmate Perpetua Avery coming into the room. Perpetua and Audrey were in the same house at school, Slytherin, or was it Slytherclaw. I foreget. Anyways, the green house. They both come from old families, and so it was natural for her to move in with us. As usual, she's wearing stiletto heels, the highest quality robes that are displaying altogether too much cleavage, with her make up perfectly done and her jet black hair coifed to perfection. In theory, Perpetua has a job working as a secretary or something at Rookwood Enterprises, but we all know that's a joke. Daddy's a family friend of Mr. Rookwood who gave Perpetua a job so it seems like she actually might be doing something between all the parties, and the manicures, and the spa treatments, and the shopping. And I swear, the only other thing she does besides spending money and getting groomed, is going on dates with pureblooded heirs, ministry workers, and wealthy business owners, all of whom daddy OKs first before she says yes.

I do get along with Perpetua. I really do. It's just that she tends to start all of her sentances with 'IF you want a rock on your finger,…' 'IF you want to be known as a seriously good dinner party hostess,…' or my personal favorite, 'IF you want a pureblooded husband with a Class A Security Gringotts Vault'.

I mean, I wouldn't _mind_ being known as a seriously good dinner party hostess. You know. But It's not exactly high on my list of priorities right now. It's somewhere down the line AFTER paying my bills, getting a promotion, learning to lose my accent.

I mean, Perpetua's idea of being a seriously good dinner party hostess is inviting a bunch of snobby, wealthy, purebloods over , borrowing her mother's house elves to clean and decorate the flat, and then having them cook all the food just to tell everyone she made it herself later. I mean really, no one believes you made it if you don't even know it's obviously beef, not chicken.

"I did that quiz," she says picking up her Louis Vuitton handbag that her dad bought for her as a present when she got dumped after three dates. Like she was heartbroken.

Mind you, he was the heir to the Firebolt broomstick fortune, so she probably WAS heartbroken.

"What did you get?" asks Audrey.

"Eighty nine," she replies spritzing herself with her personal home made perfume which I happen to know is bottled amortentia that she brews herself in her bathroom closet. Tossing her long black locks over her shoulder, she smiles at herself in the mirror and winks with one bright green eye. "So, what's the gossip with you two? Make it quick. I have a date in Paris in twenty minutes."

"Nothing," pouts Audrey.

"I'm err… moving in with Andrew," I say with a tentative smile. Audrey looks up giving me a pleading look as if to say –don't leave me alone with HER!-

"Why didn't you tell me!" exclaims Audrey.

"I was just about to! Isn't it great?"

"Bad move, Fleur." Perpetua shakes her wand at me. Watch where you point that thing, witch! "Very bad tactics."

"Tactics?" snorts Audrey with a roll of her eyes. "Fleur is in a relationship, not playing gobstones."

"A relationship is like a game of gobstones! Mummy says you always have to look ahead. You have to plan strategically. If you make the wrong move, you've had it and it's the nasty gobstones goo in your face! And you called yourself a Slytherin!"

"That's rubbish!" snaps Audrey who doesn't appreciate the pureblood pressures of finding a mate like Perpetua does. "It's about soul mates finding one another and falling in love!"

"Soul mates, LOVE!!" scoffs Perpetua laughing. "Fleur, just remember. IF you want a rock on your finger, don't move in with Andrew." Her dark eyes shoot to the mantelpiece and the picture of her meeting Draco Malfoy at some Pureblood only function.

"Still holding out for Malfoy, then?" taunts Audrey, stinging from Perpetua's negation of the importance of love in a marriage. "How much younger is he than you again, Perpetua?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" snaps Perpetua storming out the door. As the door slams, we snigger. Really, the Malfoys may be rich as Goblins, and pure as Merlin, but the one thing they lacked was a nice heir Perpetua's age. Nothing could possible miff her more.

* * *

I look at my watch wincing. I do NOT want to go home for my father's birthday. As I stand in line at the international flooport, I resolve that this time will be better. I read an article in the quibbler, one of the few magazines that is total shite, but sometimes has one or two insightful articles among the humor. It talked about how with the impending return of You-Know-Who, family is the most important thing in our lives. It emphasized strong family bonds and togetherness to help make it through the war together. Divided we fall, united we conquer or something like that. It spoke of not taking family for granted for one day, and how we should cherish our loved ones.

Therefore, I made some resolutions for today.

I WILL NOT

Let my family stress me out

Feel jealous of Jean's success

Let myself be degraded by Jean Claude

Look at my watch, wondering how soon I can apparate the heck back to England.

I WILL

Be serene and loving and remember that we are all sacred links in the eternal circle of life.

The Delacours have lived in the hereditary family mannor for over 16 generations. It's right on the coast and the breeze is always refreshing and wonderful. I loved falling asleep to the sound of crashing waves growing up.

As I apparate to the house from the French Floo Port, I smile at the familiar stone house. Having set off the wards, they know that I have arrived. Gabi, my beloved sister runs out to greet me. She's getting big, about thirteen this summer, just about to hit puberty. Merlin, those boys better stay the hell away!

Gabi pulls my hand and drags me inside, chattering away about how school is going and how Madame Mim is still as barmy as ever teaching transfiguration up at Bauxabatons. Coming into the house, we pass the lounge where I can hear the wireless as Papa and Jean listen to the game. Gabi flounces into the kitchen ahead of me where Mum is cooking up a storm with her wand, something she does on the rare special occasion. Usually it's actually very good. Gabi tucks right up to her side, wanting to see everything. I feel like a third wheel.

Mum and Gabi look so happily domestic together. I always was the more adventurous one, the one who wanted to run out into the garden and play, and play my little games where I would dress up as a muggle and be a witch in disguise who tracked down bad muggle men and tricked them into becoming good law abiding citizens while they fell in love with me. Merlin, I was such a freak. But the thing is, I loved doing things, not just sitting around and looking pretty, like I'm pretty sure my mum and Gabi like to do some times, other than look pretty. Before Jean Claude, it was always me and my dad listening to the quidditch game on the wireless. I really do love quidditch even if I can't play it, or even get on a broom really. Which is why I'm so excited to give my dad his birthday present.

"Fleur!" comes a voice I recognize all too well. "Great to see you! We don't see enough of you on this side of the Channel lately!"

"We certainly don't!" agrees dad coming in behind him and giving me a hug.

"How about a drink?" asks Jean Claude, practically shoving a flute brimming with champagne in my face. I think he thinks that getting me drunk is a way to get me, if you know what I mean.

"Thanks," I say awkwardly sipping at the overly full glass. "Congratulations on your award by the way."

"He's got quite the number of them now, don't you Jean?" smiles mum proudly. I just wish she could smile like that about me.

"Six," smirks Jean, raising an eyebrow in my direction. "Nine if you include some of the ones from my school days."

"That's nice," I say with a forced smile, taking a larger than is strictly proper sip of my champagne.

"Well, is there anything I can do?" asks Jean Claude, once again being courteous and showing me up.

"Could you just levitate these into the dining room, and we'll be set for dinner, what a darling you are," exclaims mum with a grateful look as she stashes her wand in her pocket.

"Excuse me," says Jean as he brushes past me with some plates trailing behind him. I try to act like I don't notice when his hand trails over my bum quite overtly.

"Is there anything I can do?" I say quickly, masking the irritation in my voice. Anything to get away from his wandering hands.

"You could get Razo a treat," she says, giving me a bag of owl treats. She furrows her smooth brow as she looks at the owl. "You know, I'm a bit worried about Razo."

"Oh!" I exclaim, feeling anxious all of a sudden. "Err… why?"

"Well, he just doesn't seem himself lately," she peers at him in his golden cage lined with old issues of the Daily Prophet. "What do you think, Fleur? Does he look right to you?"

Is this her way of telling me she knows. I mean, if she knows, that I know, that she knows… why wouldn't she just say it outright. Like… 'I know you killed my owl last summer!' "Umm.." I follow her gaze and pretend I'm intently studying Razo's features. As if I didn't look at them enough when I bought the bloody bird. Honest to Merlin, I never thought she would notice. I tried as hard as I could to get an owl that looked just like Razzo. I mean, he's brown, he's got two wings, he flies around… what's the difference?

"He's probably just depressed," I say at last. "He'll get over it."

Please don't let her take him to a Magizoologist or anything. I didn't even check if I got the right sex. Do owls have sex?

"Anything else I can do?" I ask, startled out of my thoughts as a hand transverses the path from my hip to my opposite shoulder. I hold out a treat to the owl who nips it cautiously. He must know I killed his predecessor.

"Nope, looks like Jean has set up everything, time to eat!"

* * *

I cannot stand him. I cannot even tolerate the fact that he lives and breathes. I want to hex him into oblivion.

We've been sitting around the table now for almost an hour. And the only voice we've heard is Jean Claude's.

"It's all about image. It's all about the right clothes, the right look, the right walk. When I walk along the street, the message I give to the world is 'I am a successful wizard!'"

"Show us!" prompts mum adoringly.

"Well," Jean flashes a not so modest smile. "Like this." He gets up, and as we all watch, Jean starts striding around the room in a maner more pompus, if I had ever dared imagine it before, than Penny's boyfriend Percy Wealsey. Assistant to the bloody minister. Rahh rah Percy, we loved your speech on Cauldron bottoms… Jean's chin is raised at an arrogant tilt, his jaw clenched menacingly, his scrawny, if I do say so myself, chest is sticking out, and hands are swigning back and forth in an almost militant manner. He looks like a cross between a muggle soldier and an hippogriff with its feet on backwards.

"I should be carrying a briefcase, of course," he says without stopping. "When I go into a conference hall, I tell you, heads turn." He smiles proudly. "People stop what they are doing and look at me!"

I bet they do. And they think, 'what freak is that!' AHAHAHA! Oh, Merlin, I mustn't giggle.

"Do you want to have a go, Fleur," says Jean. "Copy me?"

"Er, I don't think so," I say. "I think I probably… picked up the basics." I can't help the snort of laughter that erupts within me, so I hide it as a sort of strangled cough. It doesn't fool mum though.

"Fleur, he's only trying to help you! Be grateful!" She scolds me. She smiles at Jean and pats him on the back. "You're so good to Fleur." I take a swig of the wine I drank with my dinner. Sure, Jean wants to help me. That's why he's always trying to get in my pants. The only thing he DOES want to help me with is taking off my clothes.

After graduation, he came up to me at my party and made me an offer that he "didn't think I could refuse". He would give me a job as his secretary, if I wanted to give him a little something for his effort to get me a job. I was totally mortified. I never told anyone, especially not mum and dad.

"You should pay more attention! Maybe you could get a respectable job here in France!" Dad tells me sharply. I packed my bags the night after my graduation party. I couldn't be in the same bloody country as Jean.

"It's only a walk," snorts Jean, now malicious. "It's not a miracle cure! Besides, for all I know, it's hopeless on women. I mean, how many women do you see in departments like mine, besides the secretaries of course. But then again, none of them aspire to be quite what you do Fleur. What is it that you want to be now? Department head? I don't think the entire French ministry has ever had a female head. I mean, those English. No wonder they are running around terrified that they have a mass murderer gathering followers and mucking up their ministry. None of them seem to realize that a woman's place is at home, beside her man, who can care for her."

Oh no, not this again. The settle down and marry a nice man and have babies speech. Bloody hell! Just wait, just wait till I get my promotion. Just, wait…

A sudden image of Gary Goldring after I used my veela charm on him pops into my head. I feel a tinge of something that professor Guitiermo used to talk about in divination. A horrible premonition. Like I saw a grim in my tea leaves. That obviously wasn't one of my best moments. It's right up there with loosing the Triwizard Tournament, thank Merlin that hasn't been brought up tonight. When I got home this morning there was an owl on my desk with a letter from Fabian, asking after the meeting and saying we would discuss it Monday. Which is… ack, tomorrow.

But I need to think positive. He wouldn't not promote me because of one measly little error, would he? I mean, if it was anyone's fault, it was Gary Goldring's! He should have worn more flamboyant robes. Or have 'I'm a poof' written on them in clear English, or French….

"Fleur! Earth to Fleur!" laughs sweet Gabi, waving a hand in front of my face. "Wake up, dopey! We're doing presents!"

"Oh, right." I say snapping back into reality. "Here's mine!" I say with a wave of my wand, and the bright orange card comes flying towards me from where I stashed it in my purse.

As Dad opens a new wireless from mum, and a set of robes from Gabi, I start to get excited. I KNOW dad is going to love my present.

"It doesn't look like much," I say with a tone of mystery as I had him the orange envelope. "But you'll see when you open it…"

"What could it be?" dad ponders, comically shaking the card as if he will be able to deduce its contents. Dad takes out the funny card I got him, and his entire face lights up. "Oh, Fleur!"

"What is it?" asks mum.

"It's tickets to a Cannon's game!" exclaims Dad. "Four of them!"

"What a good idea!" exclaims Gabi. "You always have the best gift ideas!"

"Thank you, love!" says Dad, leaning over and giving me a hug and a kiss. I feel a surge of happiness bubble up inside me, quite like champagne. I had the idea a few months ago. I got four of them so he could bring his three best buddies that go back to his days at Baxabatons.

"They're right up near the top of mid field, and it's supposed to be one of the best matches of the season!" I say eagerly. "And, there are locker room passes to meet the players after the game!" I got those with a little help from my boyfriend who happens to work in the right department of the ministry for these type of gifts.

"Brill!!" says dad, still grinning like a child. "I can't wait to tell the guys! Fleur, this is a lovely present."

"Oh dear," says Jean Claude with a little laugh. He looks at a large creamy envelope in his hands. "My present seems slightly upstaged, I'm afraid. Never mind. I'll change it."

My head snaps in his direction as my eyes narrow. There's something in his voice. I know something's up. I just know it.

"What do you mean?" asks Dad, look up from the garishly orange tickets long enough to look at his adoptive son.

"It doesn't matter…" he replies, stowing the envelope away.

"Don't be silly! What is it?" says Dad.

"Well," says Jean. "It's just that Fleur and I seem to have had the same idea. Can you believe it?" he says handing the large envelope to Dad. Dad takes it, opening it gingerly and pulling out…

"OH MY MERLIN!" exclaims Dad pulling out several sheets of glossy orange paper. "Season tickets!" He's jumping up and down now in his seat, holding the tickets to a season full of games.

He's ruined my present.

"Two tickets to each home game of the season," clarifies Jean.

"Jean! You marvel!"

"They are supposed to be rather good. In a top box out of the wind and rain… open bar…"

"I don't believe this!"

My orange card is lying, forgotten, amid the wrapping paper.

Suddenly I feel like I'm close to tears and a beak coming on. He knew. HE KNEW!

"Jean! You knew!" I blurt out, my hands have already erupted into claws. "I told you I was giving Dad tickets to a Cannon's game. I TOLD you! We had that conversation about it months ago. At Vivian's graduation party!"

"Did we?" says Jean casually. "I don't remember."

"You do! Of course you remember!"

"Fleur!" says Mum. "It was a simple mistake. Wasn't it Jean?"

"Of course it was!" says Jean, the picture of innocence. "Fleur, if I've spoiled things for you, I can' only apologize. I can't help it that I'm a man, and I forget things, and that I managed to upstage your gift…" he says, giving me a look that implies he meant to do just that and that if he and I only got together, I could be a part of his gifts from now on, and my single game tickets would multiply themselves. He is a man, and he can do better than stupid female Fleur.

"There's no need to apologize, Jean. These things happen, and they are BOTH brilliant presents. Now, you two, don't fight. Especially on my birthday."

"Yes, just because you couldn't afford season tickets on your secretarial salary, doesn't mean that you shouldn't be happy that Dad got a great present Fleur," says Jean, taking the opportunity to rub my leg under the table.

"THAT'S IT!" I screech, shooting back from the table, claws now fully erupting and my face most likely sporting a beak. I can feel my fiery hatred and anger toward Jean building up inside me and gathering in my talons. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I shout, throwing the fireball right at Jean's head, and he has the common sense to duck, but not before his hair can escape the singeing power of my anger. By now, my mother is standing, her own claws manifesting themselves. She obviously wants to intervene, as does my father who is nervously grasping for his wand. Meanwhile, Gabi looks a little more than terrified. She hasn't quite hit puberty all the way yet, and has yet to experience her first veela transformation, and I don't think she's yet witnessed one by mum who has an inordinate amount of control in front of others.

Merlin, what have I done? They are going to hate me. I turn from the table, humiliated and run into the other room, grabbing my things and apperating away with a pop as angry tears run down my face. I'm fairly sure they are all still shocked by my behavior, and I will be expected to apologize in the near future before it is swept under the rug and 'forgotten' about.

Merlin, I hate him.

**Used more of Kinsella than I thought, but I hope you liked my touches on the story here and there. Did I portray Jean Claude as scummy enough?? How about the room mates and Andrew?? Anyways, please send me some lovely reviews, and for those of you following My Heart Forever Lies in London, I'm getting to work on that, finally. I've been having some block with it... But should be updating before February is out... **

**:)**

**E. A. Abbene**


	5. Chapter 5

I still have to explain to Fabian why the Paris meeting went wrong. I'm not really looking forward to that, but I'm trying to stay optimistic as I wake up on Monday morning. It's my six month appraisal today, and if you ignore that one teeny incident- if you look at the big picture- I've been doing really well recently. I'm sure I have.

The thing about Fabian is, he doesn't heap you with praise. But I bet he's noticed all the extra jobs I've been doing. He's probably been writing it all down in a little book or something. He'll bring it out and flick through the pages and say, "Fleur, effort doesn't go unaccredited here, congratulations, we're promoting you!"

I floo into the ministry atrium with an air of excitement about me. Ministry workers are hurrying around the fountain, holding cups of coffee, jostling one another as they crowd into the lifts.

"Fleur!"

I turn to see my friend Penelope Clearwater who works a floor above me standing by the stairs. She looks a bit upset, and we usually have a quick chat as we take the stairs down to our respective floors. "Penny! How was your weekend?" I ask with a smile.

"Well, this is going to sound horrible, and reflect badly on me," she says with a nervous glance at me as we start down the stairs.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" I ask, concerned now.

"I found someone else," she blurts out. "I've decided that Percy and I can't be together anymore."

"What?" I'm astounded. Percy and Penny are so perfect for each other, so practical, so well mannered, so… Penny and Percy. They've been dating as long as I've known her. He's assistant to the bloody minister, and so very handsome, he has red hair, and he has this wonderfully adorable quality about him when he tries to be all proper.

"Well, you know that Percy and I have been dating since Hogwarts when we were both top of our classes, but the spark is just gone lately. He's having a tiff with his family, and I'm tired of arguing with him about it. I guess I'm just bored with our relationship, and I've realized I don't want to marry into his huge crazy family, and have red haired Weasley children like he's going to want. I'm not ready to settle down, and I'm surely not ready to settle down with him. But I met this muggle at a family party a month or so ago, and don't be upset, but I've been seeing him a bit on the side. And he's just so different from everything that Percy has ever been to me, and he's an adventure, and so wonderful. I think I'm falling in love, and it's not fair to keep Percy around anymore, so I broke it off."

I stare at her in disbelief. She dropped Percy Weasley, the incredibly handsome, intelligent, kindhearted, adorably awkward for some mad muggle. Did I mention he has red hair! If only he had a bit of a bad boy persona, Percy would literally be my dream man.

"Did I do the right thing?" she asks uncertainly.

I'm speechless. "If you didn't love Percy," I finally manage to say.

"You always make me feel better to talk to you Fleur!" grins Penny as she gives me a quick hug and darts out of the stairwell onto the third level leaving me a bit bewildered as to what happened to her this weekend.

What should I say to Fabian about the meeting? Well obviously, I'll be frank and honest with him, without actually telling him the truth. I trudge down one more flight of stairs to level four and arrive in the Foreign Affairs department.

As I walk into the lobby, it's immediately obvious something is amiss. This isn't normal. What's going on? -Has there been a fire or something! The whole floor looks as if I's in turmoil. People are scurrying about, there's a man from Magical Maintenance polishing the floors, and someone else is casting cleaning spells on the fake plants, and Peter Chen the senior assistant to the department head old Mr. Dearborn is red faced as he's shooing people into their offices.

"Could you please go to your offices! We don't want you hanging around the reception area. You should all be at your desks already. There's nothing to see here." Peter sounds stressed, so I give him a veela smile that he can't help but smile back at me.

"What's happening?" I say to Dora, the Auror who is sometimes stationed to our floor for security measures. She morphs her hair and face into something veela looking, and grins at me. "William Weasley is coming."

"WHAT!" I gawk at her, forgetting to tell her she hasn't mastered the total veela look yet. She will simply never have the charm. Besides, she's too clumsy to pull off the impression. "Are you _SERIOUS_?"

"Actually, that's my cousin, but yes," she grins, returning her hair to its normal pink shade.

In the world of International Intelligence, that's like saying Merlin is swooping in from the past on a timeturner. William Weasley is the best International Agent in the history of the department, and an international super spy star. He practically reinvented the department in the six years he's been here. I know this because I've written report after report on his work and recommendations for changes within the department.

It was 1989, as a recent Hogwarts Graduate that William Weasley joined the Foreign Affairs department. Passing through the ranks quickly due to his outstanding work ethic and reputation as Head Boy the year previous, he was promoted to International Agent within the year. Upon receiving the dangerous Egypt assignment, rather than tell his large family the truth, he pressured Dept. Head Douglas Dearborn to work with Gringots so he could tell his family he was working as a curse breaker. This ruse was so successful in disguising his reasons for being in the country, it has been adapted as standard in the years since. Weasley was the first International Agent to find a real case against the Egyptians, possibly due to his well hidden identity. Since his initial promotion, he's gained much prestige in the department and the international scene. He has headed several operations, and developed many new ideas within the department.

No wonder Peter's in such a tizz. It wouldn't be this bad if Harry Potter himself was coming to the ministry.

"Today?" I ask.

"In about five minutes," Tonks looks at her watch. "Give or take, this thing has a tendency to be off."

"But… why?" I ask dumbly. It's no secret that William Weasley loves the adventure of field work, and also enjoys the freedom of being away from his large family for most of the year. Rumor has it, he accepted the foreign position so he could decide when he wanted to babysit and when he didn't.

Dora's eyes twinkle mischievously. She's obviously been telling people this all morning and enjoying every minute of it. "Rumor has it that he's coming back for good with all this talk of You-know-who's return, and wanting to be back in England near his family."

"I thought he accepted the position in Egypt to distance himself a little. I thought since his raise that since they allowed him so many international floos a month, his mum hasn't been pressuring him to come home so much. He was going to obtain a permanent residence and set up an undercover base in the Middle East."

"Maybe he missed our wonderful English weather," says my coworker Ferris darkly as she passes, dripping with water. Obviously, flooing was a good idea this morning.

"My theory," says Dora with another mysterious smile, "Is that Dearborn is finally going to retire as Department Head, and a certain someone is going to step in for the job. Of all the International Agents, he's known as the best for a reason."

I gape at her. Of course there are tons of International Agents in place by the department around the globe, and plenty like my boss Fabian that only do desk work here in the Ministry, but William Weasley is the most influential, infamous, and innovative.

"What are you still doing here?" demands Peter, inciting me to rush off to my cubicle down the hall.

I've just reached the doorway to the hall I'm down when the lift doors open. I can't help but pause and glance at those exiting the lift. The Minister and Mr. Dearborn exit the lift with a small crowd of assistants and underlings. I can see Percy Weasley with his horn rimmed glasses, and Moody, the crazy Auror.

I stand there gaping as a moment later, a man with slightly shaggy red hair wearing a sharp set of navy blue robes with a full suit under them appears. He's shorter than I expected, but has the muscles of a centaur. He's wearing dark glasses and dragonhide substitute gloves. He looks like Dangerous could be his middle name. Too bad I know its Arthur.

"Welcome to the Ministry Department of Foreign Affairs," Peter says formally. "I hope your journey was pleasant."

"Not too bad, thanks," he replies with a Scottish accent.

The atmosphere in the office is a little bit like my dorm room used look before me and my roommates had a party in sixth year. People are brushing their hair, spraying perfume, shuffling papers around, casting spells left and right, and gossiping excitedly. As I walk past Shawn Kirkcaldy's desk, who is in charge of foreign placement, I see he is lining up pictures of him with various foreign dignitaries during placement missions, while Jessica, his assistant is polishing his Service to the Ministry Medal.

I'm just hanging up my outer robes when Fabian pulls me aside. "What the fuck happened in France? I got a very strange owl from Gary Goldring today. You thought sleeping with him would seal the deal?"

I don't believe it. Gary Goldring told Fabian? But he promised he wouldn't! "It wasn't like that!" I say quickly defending myself. "I was just trying to use a little bit of my hereditary veela charm to convince him that signing the treaty was best for the country. I just used a bit of feminine wiles on him. I never even thought about sleeping with him!"

Fabian cocks an eyebrow and regards me skeptically. "Lucky for you, I've smoothed it over with them. I guess it was a lot to ask of you, but I must know…" he pauses. "Is he… homosexual?"

"I'll do better next time, I promise, just let me prove myself. And… er yes.." I beg seeing him mentally writing me off in his head.

"We'll see, but you better get going, your desk is a bloody mess."

"Alright, what time is my appraisal going to be?"

"Fleur, in case you hadn't heard, William Weasley is coming in today," he says in a sarcastic way that he thinks is lost on me. "But of course, if you think your appraisal is more important than the man who will likely become your new department head…"

"No, I didn't mean…" I start to say before he cuts me off.

"Go and tidy your desk!" snaps Fabian with a dirty look. "And if you use your fucking Veela charm on William Weasley, you're fired."

As I scurry to my desk, Peter hurries into the room looking like he just fought off a dragon. He's sweating profusely, his hair is in worst disarray than Harry Potter's, and it looks as if he tried to use a cleaning spell on his trousers and something went dreadfully wrong.

"Attention!" He says shooting sparks out of his wand. "Attention everyone! This is an informal visit, nothing more. Mr. Weasley will come in, perhaps talk to one or two of you, observe what you do… So I want all of you to act normal, but obviously at your highest standards. What is this?" he suddenly snaps, glaring at Robert Groven and the small metal cage on his desk.

"It's a pigmy puff, for my daughter's birthday," he says, affronted.

"Well it can't stay here!" Peter picks them up and shoves it at Robert. "Get rid of it! Now, if he asks any of you a question, just be pleasant and natural. When he arrives, I want you all working, doing some kind of typical task you would be doing on any normal day. Some of you could be reading or writing interdepartmental memos, a couple of you could be creatively brainstorming, remember, this is the crux of the department! This is the home office behind all of the foreign missions in the world!"

He pauses, and we all stare dumbly at him. He's finally gone mad as a hippogriff!

"You there-" he's looking at me. "MOVE!" I snap into action. Merlin's left saggy ball, my desk is a mess. I open a drawer and sweep all my spare parchment into it with a flick of my wand. Then in a slight panic, I begin to arrange my quills. At the desk next to me, Ferris Selwyn is redoing her glamour charms.

"It'll be really interesting to meet him," she says into her reflection in a small mirror. "You know, a lot of people think he single handedly changed the very idea of international intelligence."

"What do we call him? Mr. Weasley, William? Will?" Robert is saying as he finds a place to hide his pigmy puff.

"Five minutes alone with him to pitch my idea on undercover muggles. I mean, Merlin, if he went for it…"

Merlin, the air of excitement is infectious! In a rush of nerves I cast quick cleaning charms on the framed photos of my sister and my parents on my desk. Who knows what could catch his eye.

"On with your everyday tasks!" barks Peter. "Now!"

Fuck… What's my everyday task?

I pick up one of my overnight airplanes and begin reading before looking around- and see that's exactly what everyone else has done. We can't all be doing the same thing. This is stupid, of course, I'll compose a memo. As I tap my quill trying to think of something to write a memo about, I hear Ferris engage Robert in a conversation.

"I think the whole essence of the concept is transportation!" she says a bit too loudly. "Do you see what I mean?"

"Err, yes, to a modern traveling wizard, we need to be concentrating on er… appartation and floo.."

Merlin, I can't think of anything, all I have is Dear… I can't even think of a person to write to. I know what I'll do, I'll be the person getting tea. I mean, what could be more natural than that in England?

"I think I'll get a cup of tea," I say standing up.

"Could you get me one?" asks Ferris. "Anyways, my apparition course…"

The departmental tea room is just across the hall, and as I'm waiting for the kettle to heat up under my warming charm, I glance up to see the Minister walking out of the training complex where we train new field agents. Shite! He's coming!

OK. Keep cool. Just pour the tea, nice and natural…

And there he is! With that curly red hair and his bulging muscles, and is that a burn? But to my slight surprise, he steps back, out of the way. In fact, no one is even looking at him. Everyone's attention is focused on some other guy. A guy wearing a casual set of grey outer robes, plain black trousers, and a white button down without a tie, who's walking out now…

As I stare in fascination, he turns.

Oh, my Merlin. As I see his face, I feel an almighty thud, as though a killing curse has slammed hard into my chest.

It's him.

The same bright blue eyes. The same earring. The same deep red pony tail. He's shaved since I saw him, but it's definitely him.

It's the man from the plane.

What's _he_ doing here?

And – why is everyone giving him their undivided attention? He's speaking now, and everyone is lapping up every word falling out of his mouth.

He turns again, and I instinctively turn my face and hide behind a curtain of hair wishing it wasn't so blond and perfect and I could just hide in the background for once. What's he doing here? HE can't-

That can't be-

That can't possibly be-

With wobbly legs, I dash back to my desk, trying not to spill the tea.

"Hey," I say to Ferris, my voice a bit higher than usual, my claws coming out from the stress. "Erm, do you know what William Weasley looks like?"

"No," she says, and takes her tea without thanking me.

"Red Weasley hair," says someone. "Wears it long, in a pony tail."

"A pony tail?" I swallow. "Not just shaggy?"

I never get an answer as at that moment someone hisses, "He's coming!"

I sink into my chair and sip my tea, wincing automatically at the disgusting taste.

"… Fabian here runs our diplomatic division and manages all upfront business."

"Good to meet you, Fabian," comes the same warm Scottish burr from the plane.

It's him. It's definitely him. OK. Keep calm. Maybe he won't remember me. It was a short flight. He probably takes lots of flights.

Everyone," Fabian is leading him to the center of the office. "I'm delighted to introduce our future Head of Department, the man who has already made a monumental mark on this department and will continue to do so for many years, the infamous William Weasley!"

A round of applause breaks out, and Mr. Weasley shakes his head, smiling. "Please, just do what you would normally do."

He starts to walk around the office, pausing now and then to talk to people. Fabian is leading the way, making all the introductions, and following him silently everywhere is the other redhead.

"Here he comes!" Ferris suddenly murmurs, and everyone on our end of the office stiffens. My heart starts to thump, and I shrink into my chair, trying to hide behind my quills. Maybe he won't recognize me. Maybe he won't remember. Maybe he won't-

Fuck. He's looking at me. I see the flash of surprise in his eyes, and he raises his eyebrows.

He recognizes me.

Please don't come over here, I silently pray. Please don't come over.

"And who's this?" he says to Fabian.

"This is Fleur Delacour, one of our International Assistants."

He's walking towards me. Ferris has stopped talking. Everyone is staring. I'm hot with embarrassment, and I'm sure my veela claws are complete.

"Hello," he says pleasantly.

"Bonjour," I manage. "Mr. Weasley."

OK. So he recognizes me. But that doesn't necessarily mean he remembers anything I said. After all, I kissed him… oh hell I doubt that worked if he's a pureblood wizard. A few random comments thrown out by a person on a plane. Who is going to remember that, besides, maybe he wasn't even listening.

"And what do you do?"

"I, um, assist the diplomacy and management division, and I help with translating all French, Italian, and German missives," I mumble.

"Fleur was in Paris only last week on business," adds in Fabian, giving me a completely phony smile. "We believe in giving our International Assistants responsibility as early as possible."

"Very wise," says William Weasley, nodding. His gaze runs over my desk and alights with sudden interested on my plain white tea cup. He looks up and meets my eye. "How's the tea?" he says innocently. "Tasty?"

Like a wireless alert in my head, I suddenly hear my own voice, prattling on.

_The tea room at the ministry is the most disgusting stuff you've ever drunk, absolute poison…_

"It's great!" I say. "Really… delicious!"

"I'm very glad to hear it." There's a spark of amusement in his eyes, and I feel myself redden. He remembers. FUCK. He remembers.

"And this is Ferris Selwyn, one of our brightest young International executives," says Fabian.

"Ferris," says William Weasley thoughtfully. He takes a few steps toward her workstation. "That's a nice big desk you've got there, Ferris." He smiles at her. "Is that new?"

_This new desk arrive the other day, and she just took it-_

He remembers everything does he? Everything. Oh Merlin! What the fuck else did I say?

While Ferris make some brown nosing remark, I'm sitting with my perfect employee expression on my face. On the inside, however, I'm frantically going back trying to remember everything I said. I mean, I told this man everything about myself. _EVERYTHING._ I told him what kind of knickers I wear, what kind of ice cream I like, how I lost my virginity! I told him… my blood runs cold. I remember something I should not have told him, or anyone for that matter.

…_I know it was dishonest, and I shouldn't have done it… But I SO wanted to get a job…_

I told him about faking the E on my CV. Well that's it, I'm dead. He'll fire me. It will go down on my record as being dishonest. No one will ever employee me again. I'll be sent back to France in shame to marry Jean Claude.

OK. Don't panic, there must be something I can do. I'll apologize, say it was an error of judgment that I now deeply regret, and I never meant to mislead the Ministry, and… no I'll tell him I really did get an E, but I forgot on the plane, and then I'll forge certificate saying I got one. I mean, it's not like he went to school in France, how would he know what they look like?

I laugh out loud in my nerves, and Ferris gives me an odd look.

"I'd just like to say that I'm very glad to meet you all," says William Weasley, looking around the silent office. "And also introduce my brother, Charlie Weasley," he gestures to the other redhead in the group. "He'll be staying here a few days and wanted to follow me around. I hope to get to know all of you better in our future years together. As you know, with the rumors of dark wizards, I thought it was time to move back home to England, and taking this position is a lifelong dream come true much sooner than I had ever expected."

**I know it's been forever... but really! I have had this mostly written for a long time but I updated My Heart Forever Lies in London and I just really love Fleur and Bill and I had to update this too! I can't wait to start back writing... I really want to finish my fanfictions... ACK! PLEASE REVIEW! Tell me what you thought... I hope i managed to convert some of Kinsella's humor to wizarding british etc... I love crazy funny Fleur! **


	6. Chapter 6

**As I'm on a writing kick right now, I thought I would update this one again. Please review people! **

As soon as the Weasley brothers leave the department, there seems to be this collective sigh from everyone and I feel my body sag in relief. Thank Merlin! Excited babble breaks out around me, but all I can think is, William Weasley knows my deep dark secrets! He was supposed to be a stranger on a plane. I KISSED HIM! O dear Merlin, I kissed him! Nevermind it was the best kiss of my life.

Suddenly Fabian is in front of me. Merde, my appraisal…. Now? "William Weasley wants to see you in his new office in five minutes."

"MOI?" I squeek out in startled French. "Did he say why? What?"

"No, I meant to tell you that he asked for Dumbledore, but we're sending you instead. YES YOU NOW! GO!" MERDE! I feel sick… I'm going to lose my job… because of a stupid muggle plane ride. Why did I have to open my big fat mouth.

"Why does William Weasley want to see you?" sneers Ferris giving me a look that she can't believe he wants to see me. Suddenly she allows a look of dawning to pass her face. "Ohhh," she says, and I can tell she's going to announce to the entire department that I'm sleeping with him as soon as I leave the room. Because apparently only Veela looks could interest someone as important and handsome as the new department head.

"I don't know!" I snap at her as I head toward my firing. Should I collect my things now or later?

I can't lose my job. I mean, obviously, if he told me he was my future boss, I would have never mentioned my CV…. Or really any of it. I'll say it was an error of judgment that I now deeply regret, and I never meant to mislead the ministry, and MERLIN! Is that treason? I lied to the government. Though in my defense they were too stupid to realize…

It's not like I faked that I graduated, is it? I don't have a criminal record or anything. I'm a good employee. I try really hard, and barely skiv off….

By the time I reach his office, my face is red in agitation and I officially have veela claws. I stand at his closed door unsure… he really needs a secretary to prevent people from just barging into his office. That would be a good idea. I mean, what if he decided to change his shirt and someone decided to walk in… MERLIN, stop thinking about him shirtless! I decidedly knock on the door and open it to see him sitting behind his desk with a grave expression on his devastatingly handsome face. MERLIN!

I have to defend myself, I need to keep this job. The alternative is…. Not an option!

"Hi," he says. "Can you close the door?" I do, and sit when he gestures for me to take a seat. "Fleur, we need to talk about something."

"I'm aware we do," I say, trying to remember the English words. "But I would like to say my piece first, if I may." He looks a bit startled at my boldness, but indicates I should proceed, so I continue.

"Mr. Weasley, I know what you want to see me about. I know it was wrong. It was an error of judgment that I deeply regret. I'm extremely sorry, and it will never happen again. But in my defense…" I can hear my voice taking on birdlike tones and heat growing in my palms in true veela self defense nervousness. "In my defense, I had no idea who you were on the plane, and I don't believe I should be fired for what was an honest genuine mistake!" There is an awkward beat of heavy silence.

"You think I'm firing you?" he finally asks with a look of total confusion.

"YES! You must realize I never would have mentioned my CV if I had known who you were!"

"Your CV?" he says, his expression one of realization. "Ah! The E on your resume'." He gives me a penetrating look he must have learned from that Professor Dumbledore. "The falsified E on your CV, I should say." I can feel my face and hands growing hotter and hotter at his words.

"A lot of people would consider that fraud," he says leaning back in his chair with a smirk which enrages me.

"I know, I know it was wrong. I shouldn't have… but it doesn't affect the way I do my job. I don't even USE transfiguration!"

"Well what if we ever needed you to use it…."

"I can do transfiguration, ask me a question, ask me to do something. ANYTHING!" I beg.

"Okay," his mouth is twitching, that bastard son of a whore. "Human transfiguration on yourself." My eyes light up. I can do this! The one kind of transfiguration I ever bothered with learning. Because let me just say… I thought it would be interesting to see how I was treated differently if I was ugly. I smirk right back and transfigure into my personal favorite, a hideous old lady with a slightly crazed look. His eyebrows shoot up slightly.

"Very, very good. Now, have you finished what you wanted to say or is there more?" I transfigure back.

"I…" I rub my face confusededly before a horrific thought crosses my mind. "I didn't mean to kiss you… well I did… but I meant to make you forget the conversation, you know… veela blood and all… and I didn't mean it in a sexual manner by any means, not that it wasn't nice… I mean the most amazing kiss of my life… I mean... but I'm not coming onto you… not that you aren't a very attra…. I'm shutting up now…" By now my face resembles a tomato, and I want the earth to swallow me whole. Where is a time turner when you need one… I need to murder myself five minutes ago. "Was my CV what you wanted to see me about?"

"No," he says mildly, obviously amused by my subject change. "That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Was it the…. Kiss?"

"No."

I want to die.

"Right." I try and compose myself. "So, er… what _did_ you want?"

"I have a small favor to ask you."

"Anything!" I say anxiously. "I mean…. What is it?" He seems to hold back a laugh and I'm grateful he did or I might just avada myself.

"For various reasons, I would prefer that no one knows I was in France last week. So I would prefer you kept our meeting between ourselves as I was er… not on that plane."

"Of course! Absolutely! I can do that! It never happened."

"You haven't told anyone?"

"No. No one! Not even my… I mean no one!"

"Good. Thank you very much. I appreciate it." He smiles and seems to dismiss me. "Nice to meet you again, Fleur. I'm sure I'll see you again."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Unless you wanted to discuss that kiss again." He smirks and I want to throw a fire ball his way.

"NO!" I huff and get to my feet hurriedly, shooting him a glare as I glide out the door.

* * *

When I get home that night, Andrew is waiting for me. And the only two subjects he wants to talk about are Weasleys and apartments. He already has tons of brochures, and he's really pushing the ones with quidditch pitches on the roof or nearby. Plus apparently Charlie and Bill Weasley were some kind of athletic gods on the Gryffindor quidditch team when he was at Hogwarts and he is in homosexual love with them both or something. Please shut up already!

* * *

When I get to work the next day, Fabian is already waiting for me at my desk. "Fleur, my office now…"

I follow him into his office nervously. Maybe Mr. Weasley told him about my faked grade… maybe he decided he does want to fire me for the episode with Mr. Goldring. Maybe… maybe…

"We need to have your semiannual appraisal meeting." OH MY MERLIN! I'M GETTING A PROMOTION! "Okay, Fleur Delacour." He looks at the form in front of him and starts ticking boxes. "Generally you're doing fine. You're not generally late… You understand the tasks given to you… You are fairly efficient… You work OK with your colleagues… blah blah blah, Any problems?" I shake my head, too excited to speak. "Do you feel racially harassed?" I shake my head again. "Good, well that is it. You can go." WHAT?

"You can go?" Shite, I must have said that out loud.

"What about my promotion?" I blurt out.

"What promotion?" he asks looking up from the paper.

"To international executive agent."

"What the flying fuck are you talking about?"

"It said… in the ad for my job… possible promotion within six months to a year."

"That was only for exceptional candidates, you aren't ready for a promotion, you barely speak proper English. You'll have to prove yourself first, and you obviously didn't do that in France. Moving up to International Executive is a big step. If you want to get ahead you'll have to create your opportunities. Now, seriously, get the hell out of my office." I flush with embarrassment, and he's still chortling over the idea of giving me a promotion as I sulk out.

Today is already terrible and it's only 9:15.

As I sit down and look at the documents in front of me, it hits me. Another whole six months to a year of being the crappy international assistant and everyone thinking I'm beautiful but useless brainless Fleur. Another year of being in debt to Daddy, and Jean laughing at me and being his terrible disgusting self. I feel like a complete failure… and to my horror and start to feel tears prickle behind my eyes. Dismissing the stack of memos and diplomatic treaties to proof, I stand up.

"I need a cup of tea, would anyone else like one?" I ask.

"You can't get any," says Ferris giving me an odd look. "Haven't you noticed?"

"What?" I've been here all of twenty minutes and I'm supposed to have noticed something?

"The tea room is closed for redoing. The rumor is that William Weasley is getting us a new tea kettle that makes well brewed tea with even heating, and he's ordering decent tea! From all over the world! We are a real international department now!"

William Weasley is getting us new tea?

"Fleur, did you hear me? Do you need me to speak mas despacio por favor?" she says condescendingly. That's SPANISH you moron! I am fluent in four languages. "I want you to find the minutes from the German Diplomat conference two years ago. Merlin, you're such a crap assistant. Learn bloody English. This is England, we speak English."

I really am going to cry. I turn my back to her and cross the room blindly like a person imperioed and open the filing cabinet where such records are kept. I stare unseeing through the blur my tears have created pretending to ruffle through the files as I get my emotions under control. I try and think of something nice. William Weasley is getting us decent tea. And he's a great snog. My eyes clear to read the thick file marked Germany and I pull it out to bring it back to my desk. Turning with the large file in my arms, I nearly drop them all on the floor when I see him. Standing right in front of me wearing pressed blue robes with nice slacks and what appears to be a homemade jumper with a cursive W embroidered on the breast.

He is so breath-takingly beautiful, with that red hair, and those blue eyes… I snap out of it and head to my desk. Maybe this is why my veela heritage makes people so uncomfortable. Do other people feel like this when they see me?

"William Weasley is going to be observing on the department today," says Fabian as I sit myself down.

"Please, it's Bill," says Mr. Weasley.

Fabian looks like he's died and gone to heaven. "Okay, Bill, is going to be sitting in this morning. He's going to observe what you do, find out how we operate as a team. Just behave normally; don't do anything special…" Fabian pauses and looks around the office spotting me. "Hi there, Fleur. How are you doing? Everything Okay?"

It must be obvious I am this close to a mental breakdown. I'm sure my eyes must be read and my nose is probably sharper looking than normal. And he's rubbing in I didn't get promoted. "Er, yes, merci, Fabian."

"Good! A happy staff, that's what we like. And while I have your attention," he coughs self importantly like Percy Weasley mid lecture. "I just wanted to remind you that our Ministry Family Day is coming up a month from Saturday. It's a chance for all of us to let our hair down, enjoy meeting each other's families, and have some fun!"

A couple people exchange looks. Until right now, Fabian has always referred to this as the Government Fuckwit Day and said he'd rather have his balls torn off than bring a member of his family to it.

"Anyways, back to work everyone! Bill, let me get you a chair."

"Just ignore me," says Bill as he sits down. "Behave normally."

Behave normally. Right. Of course.

So that would be to sit down, take off my shoes, ruffle through my memos, put some hand cream on, eat a few Bertie Bots Beans, read my horoscope in the quibbler, read Andrew's horoscope, send a memo to Andrew, wait a few minutes to see if he replies, take a swig of my pumpkin juice, and then finally get around to finding the German Meeting Minutes for Ferris.

I don't think so.

As I leaf through the pages of the German file, my mind is working quickly. Create your own chances. Carve out your own opportunities. That's what Fabian said. And Bill Weasley, Merlin, Bill is such a sexy name, is sitting here watching me work. Head of the entire department, legendary International Agent. Surely I can impress him somehow! OK, perhaps I haven't gotten off to the most brilliant start with him. But perhaps too, this is my chance to redeem myself! If I can just somehow show how bright and motivated I am…

I leaf through the pile, and I realize that I feel like I'm at high tea with mama and her society gals or in Madame Maxine's posture class. Looking around, everyone else seems to be in a posture class too. Before Bill Weasley arrived, Ferris was on a two way mirror with her mum, but now she's put on her horn-rimmed glasses and is writing briskly, occasionally pausing to smile at what she's written in a what-an-intelligent-person-I-am way. She doesn't pull it off half as well as Percy Weasley, but I'll give her points for trying. Shawn was reading the sports section of the Prophet, but now he stands up and comes over to Robert's desk.

"Did you have any thoughts on the placement of the new International Agent in training that transferred from the Auror Department?" he says in a loud, too casual voice. "Because I really think he's going to rock. We need to really rethink this post."

"Er, yeah," says Robert, looking bewildered. Shawn is in charge of foreign placement. Robert's just in charge of the training program for Agents and keeping their training active. Shawn has brought a map of the world and he uses his wand to prop it up in the air.

"So this is the world, the red dots are current Agents. Where do you think he could fit in well?" He starts wandering his wand around the map, pausing and shaking his head in certain areas. OH MERLIN! He's totally showing off. This is so embarrassing for Shawn- he's got it all wrong! NO-No-no…

"You've got it upside down," comes Bill's dry Scottish voice. Everyone stiffens and Shawn turns to look at him. He is clearly joyful that Bill noticed him.

"Absolutely! I see what you mean." He nods a few times. "So, what, like the placement needs to be turned upside down? Reversed if you like? Ohh we keep him in England?"

"Not the placement. The map. It's upside down. You knew that, right?

"Er, sure," says Shawn with a faint glare in my direction and a flush in his cheeks. He knows that I always set up his maps for meetings and ensure they are properly oriented. "So anyways… Robert, we'll brainstorm later, OK." He walks back to his desk in total silence which I'm tempted to break with a nervous laugh. But what if Bill picks on me next?

"FLEUR?" says Ferris in a falsely sweet voice. "Have you found those minutes I asked you for yet?" Not that there's _any_ hurry-"

"Er, yes, I have!" I say, pushing back my chair and going to her desk. I'm tying to look as natural as possible, but I know I'm just exuding veela charm in my nervousness. Looking over at Robert, his face has taken on that vacant look even thought I know he's happily married. However, looking over at Bill, he doesn't seem to have noticed. Strange. "Here you are Ferris!" She sneers at me and I feel my vision blur all over again. This is demeaning and humiliating. How am I supposed to impress Bill like this?

For the next few minutes, the only sounds are the ruffling of papers and the scratching of quills. I absently pull out a map and start doing something I learned in my youth by heart, writing down all the banks in each country. Gringots is the primary banking system for England, Egypt, Germany, and Belgium. Romania, Russia, Prussia, Poland, Ukraine, and several other countries operate under the Vampire banking system run by the Dracula family. I guess being undead has an advantage to running a multi-century company. In Sweeden, Netherlands, Bulgaria, Finland, and France, I draw in a little Fleur de Lis with a smile, before moving onto Italy, Spain, and Greece which are controlled by the Medici family banking system. Katarina and Bianca were in Bauxbatons at the same time as I… such nice girls.

"It's very quiet in here," says Bill, startling me out of my doodling. Looks are being exchanged but I keep my head down. Do not draw his attention. "Is it normally this quiet? I mean, office conversation is normal. I'm sure you have discussions, from everything to sports to… books. What have all of you been reading recently?"

"I'm in the middle of _Magical Cultures of Asia,_" says Shawn. Suuure…. Maybe the chapter on sports.

"I've been reading _Around the World in Eighty Days_ to my daughter," says Robert with a flush, and I feel a rush of affection for that sweet family man.

"I'm just rereading a history of Ancient Egypt," says Ferris.

"What about you, Fleur?" asks Bill nodding at each of my colleagues.

Merde… I can't tell him I'm reading _The History of Wizarding Banking: The protection and preservation of fortune, knowledge, and magic._ The author will give me away. Plus, I want to sound like I'm reading something that can help with the department…. "Umm... actually…"

"You were reading _Hogwarts a History_, for your Book Club, weren't you?" interjects Ferris. I might kiss her for remembering that. It sounds serious. "I mean, in addition to the Oxford English Dictionary…" she twitters. Scratch that. I'm going to claw her eyes out.

"Yes," I say in relief. "_Hogwarts a History_." And then I stop as I meet Bill's blue gaze. MERDI! Inside my head, my voice from the plane babbles on incessantly.

…_just skimmed the back and pretended I'd read it…_

"_Hogwarts a History_," he says with a twinkle in his eye. "What did you think of it Fleur?"

I can't believe he asked me. Some nerve. I can't even speak, I'm so flustered.

"I… well… it was… really educational…" I say at last.

"It's a wonderful book, once you truly appreciate Hogwarts. Of course, you wouldn't know since you attended that French school…" quips Ferris with a snort.

Shut up you stupid show off. Oh Merlin, what am I going to say. I vote nothing. So I shut up. I'll pretend I didn't catch her rapid fire English and return to doodling on my map, thinking idly how I could have gotten a job at any bank anywhere I wanted.

I loved the smell of a bank, that properness and formality that everyone is treated with, even lowly assistant secretaries like me. I loved that the higher ups mildly terrified the lower downs, but did it so subtly that it went unnoticed except by increased productivity, and most of all they would never sit in on the department. They sat behind a golden door with an all knowing secretary in between… really the most important people in the company… waiting for their minions to come to them, delaying them intentionally out of self importance. I wonder what it was like at Gringots. Maybe that's just how our banks were.

Ferris's shrill voice snaps me out of my homesick reverie that I only feel on days as terrible as today. "I just don't know what's wrong with it!" she's saying. "I water it every day!" She pokes her flitterbloom with her wand and it gives a pathetic shudder.

"Do you know anything about herbology, Bill?" she croons.

"It wasn't my best subject, I'm afraid," says Bill turning to look at me with a knowing look. "What do you think could be wrong with it, Fleur?"

… _sometimes when she's being particularly nasty, __I water her stupid flitterbloom with pumpkin juice…just to serve her right… which is pretty much everyday…_

"I have no idea," I snap with my face as red as his hair and pull out a new memo which I start scratching out vigorously with my quill. Never mind. I watered her stupid plant with pumpkin juice. It's more fun than reading the Oxford English Dictionary and it's still alive isn't it?

"Has anyone seen my World Cup Mug?" says Fabian walking into the office with a frown. "I can't find it anywhere."

…_I broke my boss's mug last week and banished the pieces to the Gobi Desert before I could think to use reparo…_

MERDE… Never mind… I broke one tiny mug… just keep writing this very important memo… on…. I must be channeling Percy Weasley…. Cauldron bottoms…

"Hey, Bill," says Shawn in a matey, lads together voice. "Just in case you think we don't have any fun, check this out. He nods to the photo of the bright red g-string that has been pinned to the notice board in all the offices of the department since the last department party on Victory over Grindelwald Day." We still don't know whose it is…"

…_. I had a few too many drinks at the last Department party…_

Now I want to die… Someone please avada me now…

"Hi Fleur," comes Penny's voice, and I look up to see her hurrying into the office, her face pink with excitement. When she see's her ex's older brother she stops dead. I'm sure she's heard he's the youngest department head in English ministry history.

"Ignore me. I'm just a fly on the wall today, what were you going to ask Fleur?"

"Hi Penny," I say. This causes his head to snap up. Merde… what did I say about Penny? Like a scene in a pensive, it comes back to me…

…_sweet girl, Penny, who works on level three. We have this secret code where she comes in and says, "Can I go over some numbers with you, Fleur?" and we go and get tea and have a gossip…_

I told him our skiving code! I look at Penny and beg her not to say it in my head… but it's already coming out of her mouth… and I'm about to tell her I can't when Bill answers for me.

"She'd love to, Penny." I look at him, my face flushed with embarrassment, and I think I'm close to tears again. He gives a little nod and a wink and I'm actually grateful. Today has just been so terrible. I think I'm going to go explore the department of Mysteries when this is all over. I've heard it's dangerous in there, so it's sure to get me killed.

**Poor Fleur! Seemingly perfect people have terrible days, low self esteem, and embarrasments too. She's just getting more than her fair share lately. Please Review so I can know if it's worth updating this story. I got like 2 or 3 reviews last chapter which wasn't encouraging. Also, My HEart Forever Lies in London is based off this same Bill/Fleur characterization when they appear as Victoire's parents, so if you like my writing. I just finished that story! **

**Elaine**


	7. Chapter 7

**So I'm updating sorta regularly again... please review and read extended author's note at end for more info!**

Over a quick bit of food and a soothing cup of tea, Penny informed me of her current love interest as she is sure moving on quickly after Percy. I guess he took the break up pretty well, but he's so careful with his emotions, I fear he didn't take it as well as she thinks he did. I don't know how she could ever get over that red hair and those blue eyes… but then again, the new guy she's dating has dark hair I think. He's a muggle so it doesn't really matter. I probably will never get introduced unless she's ready to marry him and thinks he can handle meeting a part veela. She barely let me talk to Percy, but that could be because I mentioned how attractive I think he is. Such a catch, I can't believe her sometimes. If I hadn't just met his brother…. Ooo those Weasley men. No wonder I had that dream about Ron Weasley. OH MERLIN! Did I tell William that? Does he think I'm a pedophile?

As I walk back to the office, I dread reentering the room. I'll just sit down and pretend I never left. No one will ask any questions or even notice I've gotten back.

I get back about forty minutes after I left. When I tip-toe in, everyone is crowded around Ferris's desk, and William Weasley is nowhere to be seen.

"I mean, maybe he's going to rethink the entire department!" someone's saying.

"I've heard a rumor he's got this secret project!"

"He's too famous to truly be working in cohorts with Dumbledore..."

"Where's Mr. Weasley?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"He's gone," says Ferris, and I feel a rush of relief.

"Is he coming back today?"

"I don't think so," she says flooding me with joy before her eyes alight with something I don't like. "But, I have some work for you to do, so here, take these letters for me, finish them up, and owl them. Overnight mail them if you have to, but they simply must go out tonight, and I can't work late, so I guess you'll have to."

Even Ferris pushing her work off onto me can't ruin the happiness I feel at hearing William will not be around the rest of the day. I sit down with the giant pile of memos and letters that I have to compile and compose and send out before the day is done. At least I'll keep busy. Grabbing my quill, I see a small folded piece of parchment with my name on it.

Puzzled, I look around, but no one seems to be anticipating my opening of the note, and the handwriting is unfamiliar. I slowly unfold it, and there's a message inside. "_I hope your meeting was productive. I always find numbers very fulfilling. Bill"_

It could have been worse. Much worse. It could have read "Clear your desk and send an airplane up to Penny while you're at it."

I decide I need to relax, and surreptitiously cast a calming charm over myself and get to work on the memos. By 10pm, I am almost finished, but I'm sure I have to be the last bloody person at the ministry. Everyone else left hours ago, and I'm sure even the most dedicated of workers (Percy Weasley), left hours ago. I'm tired, and more than a bit cranky, but I don't care to garner Ferris's wrath. I'm sure she'd do worse than water my desk plant with pumpkin juice. I mean… if I had one. Hers is suffering as I pack up and toss an empty juice container in my rubbish bin.

I have over thirty envelopes, all of which, I charmed and hexed for secrecy. It's an extra measure, but I think it helps, and Fabian might notice this extra effort some day. It could be that little initiative I take that leads to a promotion. But we can't have our mail intercepted! I grab my things and take the envelopes and head to the owlry which is conveniently on the opposite side of the ministry and quite hard to get to via normal routes.

On a whim, I decide to cut through the department of mysteries. Not _IN_ the department of course… I was joking when I said I should go there and see how long it takes to get killed, but it has a nice little shortcut to the owlry.

When I step off the elevator, I instantly regret the decision. If I thought my department was deserted and therefore creepy, this floor is much worse. And not know what lies behind the many locked doors makes me all the more nervous. I take a deep breath and walk a little more briskly as I turn the corner and … run smack into someone.

I land on my bum with a painful and quite loud thud as my letters fly up and float gently down in an absolute mess all over the dark corridor. I'm a little afraid as I look up to see who I bumped into. It could be any number of uncomfortable situations, due to the fact that there's no one here to referee if there was a problem.

"I'm sorry, wasn't paying attention to where I was going…" I say in a flustered mix of French and English.

"Fleur?" asks a deep voice that I unfortunately recognize. Seriously? Really?

"William?" I say in response.

"What are you still doing here?" he asks sounding mystified and slightly accusatory. He has cast a lumos spell in the shadowy cooridor and his wand is too close to my face for comfort as I start crawling around grabbing up my letters… It didn't seem like there were this many of them ten minutes ago at my desk.

"I had to write these letters to a good number of international agents, and they have to be mailed tonight," I say with a sigh, grabbing up a few that floated a little farther around the corner. I'm sure I'm giving him a nice view of my arse as I crawl around on all fours.

"Here let me help you," he says, seeming to realize that I really am just that much of a loser that I work that late. He stoops down and reaches to pick up a letter.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" I screech, nearly tackling him. He looks so startled, I may as well have flashed him.

"And why not?" he demands, instantly suspicious again.

"I… er… may have cursed them so that only their recipients can handle them safely besides me," I say with a little trepidation. Suddenly my innovative idea to protect the departmental mail doesn't seem too clever. I don't think he would have appreciated the severe rash and stinging hexes he just missed out on receiving.

"Really?" he says with slight wonderment in his voice. "What kind of hexes?"

"Err… standard, mostly just a bad rash and a long lasting stinging hex, but also a tongue tying, word scrambling hex so that nothing in these communications could be passed on by someone other than their intended reader."

"I like it Fleur, excellent initiative," he says after a minute where he seems to be really exploring the idea. He smiles at me, and I feel my knees go weak. If I wasn't already sitting on the floor, I might have swooned. He's that good. "How about I escort you the rest of the way to the owlry? You can tell me where you got this idea and I'll keep you company. It is late after all…" He reaches his hand out with another breath taking smile. Merlin, I think I'm in love... but really- he's my boss and I'm in love with Andrew… ooo but that red hair and blue eyes… and those muscles… He's just so nice to look at...

The rest of the way to the fireplaces is me being very anxious, and trying to think of anything I told him about the owlry. It's so unnerving to have him know my every secret.

It isn't until he's walked me to the fireplaces and I've flooed home that I think to ask myself what he was doing at the ministry that late. And what was he doing in the department of mysteries? I've written it off as a mystery, when Audrey greets me, her usual bubbly, wonderful self.

"How was your day? You're home very late," she asks setting down her book.

I don't even know where to start.

"My day…" I say at last. "My day was a bit of a nightmare."

"Really?" she says in surprise.

"Actually it was a total nightmare… I'm not sure a dementor or a boggart didn't follow me to work."

"What happened! Tell me!"

"Alright," I say trying to figure out where to start. "Remember how I had that awful business trip in France last week, and then had the dreadful flight back?"

"Oh yes, that was horrible! But then Andrew came and picked you up and was so terribly romantic…"

"Yes, I told you about that… well before that… On the flight… there was this man… sitting next to me. And like I told you, the plane hit some really bad tubed-lense." She knows my fear of flying and makes an appropriate sound. I bite my lip. "And the thing is, I honestly thought we were all going to die and that this was the last person I was ever going to see… and I…"

"Oh my Merlin!" she shrieks. "You _didn't_ have sex with him!"

"Worse!" I say almost bursting into tears. I wish I had… and not just because William looks to be a fantastic shag. "I told him all my secrets!"

I'm expecting Audrey to gasp and say something sympathetic like 'I'll help you make some polyjuice potion and we can figure out a new identity for yourself.' But her face is blank.

"What secrets?" she says.

"My secrets. You know?"

She looks at me as if I just told her that I'm really Voldemort's daughter. "You have _secrets_?"

"Of course I have secrets! Everyone has secrets!"

"I don't!" she says at once as if offended. "I don't have any secrets!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Like what?"

"Like… like… OK." I start counting off on my fingers. "You never told your dad it was you who misplaced the entire inventory of _The Invisible Book on Invisibility_."

"That was ages ago!"

"… You never told that Weasley Twin that you were hoping he would ask you to Hogsmeade…"

"I wasn't!" she says, her face coloring to match her hair. "Well, OK, maybe I was, but just because I have a thing for redheads."

"…You think that the guy next door fancies you…"

She rolls her eyes and gives me a look. "That's not a _secre_t."

"Oh right… Shall I tell him then?" I whip out my wand and cast a quick sonorous. "Hey Dan! Guess what? Audrey thinks you-"

"SILENCIO!" cries Audrey frantically.

"You see, you have got secrets! Everyone has secrets. Even Dumbledore probably has a few deep dark secrets hidden away," I say with a smirk after I get my voice back.

"Oh yeah, like what?" she says with a laugh.

"I don't know?" I say searching my mind for something good. "He's gay."

After we catch our breath from laughing, she concedes my point. "I get it, everyone has secrets. I still don't see what the big deal is. So you told some muggle on a plane a few things about yourself. You should have just kissed him… he would have forgotten at least the past five hours…."

"I DID! And… Well, now he's turned up at work, and he's not exactly some random muggle. He's sorta my boss... And he remembers everything."

"Oh Merlin, I heard William Weasley was a new department head. You lucky bastard… getting to see that living breathing god every day… OH MY MERLIN! YOU KISSED WILLIAM WEASLEY!" She's jumping up and down with glee until a look of horror passes her face. "YOU KISSED WILLIAM WEASLEY!"

"Yeah," I say miserably but, still, glad she's getting it.

"Blimey," she says. "Well, so he knows a few things about you, but surely, he realizes. Does it really matter all that much when you get past it?"

"Audrey," I say with a tremor in my voice and a flush spreading on my face. "It wasn't just a _few_ things. It was _everything_. I told him I faked a grade on my CV…"

"You faked a grade on your CV!" she echoes in shock. "Are you serious?"

"… I told him about feeding Ferris's flitterbloom pumpkin juice… that I find thongs uncomfortable… that I lost my virginity at the Quidditch World Cup…"

I trail off at her horrified expression.

"Fleur," she says at last. "Have you ever heard the English Phrase 'too much information'?"

"I didn't mean to say any of it! It just came out -after the few drinks I had had, and the flying! I thought we were going to die!"

"So you blab all your secrets to your boss!"

"But he wasn't my boss on the plane! He was just some muggle stranger! I was never supposed to see him again!" She's quiet for a minute and I can tell she's trying to process it all.

"You know… if you feel like leaving the ministry, I could get you a job at the store," she says in her wonderful try to solve everyone else's problems way. I seriously love this girl.

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to have to stick it out. I don't know what would be worse, him knowing all my secrets , or him knowing I quit because he knows them. Besides, I have to stick it out and prove to my family I can do this. I'll just try to avoid him for a while."

"Too true, but, oh Fleur," she gives me one of her all encompassing hugs that only she can give. There's something so special and loving about Audrey Flourish. I don't know what it is, but she's the best best friend ever. After a few minutes where I contemplate going and getting a glass of wine to take an edge off the day, she finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sooo jealous! Now you get to work at the ministry with BOTH of the best looking Weasley brothers! I knew I should have gone into the Record Keeping Department!"

As we both laugh I can't help but think that this is just another reason she's my best friend.

**I'm going to try and start doing a bit more writing and with holidays coming up, finals are here. However, I really want to try and write over break. Don't expect a ton of updates in the next two weeks, but I might have a few chapters up my sleeves if I get enough reviews :) I am on a writing kick, so your reviews should help it keep going :) I would really love to hear your thoughts on this chapter etc. Please send me as much feedback as possible. I really appriciate it and all of you who have put me on alert or favorite. I do notice :)**

**Ellie**

**P.s. I know this chapter is short but next one will be longer.**

**P.P.S. If you like my Mr. and Mrs. Black series, i have annother chapter coming soon :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Been a while I know, but I'm trying to swing back into things. If you follow my other stories, expect an update for MMB within a week, and if you haven't checked it yet, see my new story Undomestic Witch based on Sophie Kinsella's novel also and an Astoria Draco pairing. I rather like it. It also will be updated soon. No promises on this, but reviews INSPIRE me! So please, review away!**

I arrive at the ministry the next morning with exactly one goal- avoid William Weasley.

It should be easy enough. It's a huge building. He'll be busy in other departments today. He'll probably be tied up in loads of meetings. He'll probably spend the entire day on the fourteenth floor or something.

However, as I approach the department, I feel apprehension and find myself peering around corners. "All right, Fluer?" asks Dora. "You look lost."

"I'm great! Thanks!" I give a little laugh and briskly walk down the hall, nearly slamming into Fabian as he rounds the corner.

"Fleur! Just the persons I wanted to see!" exclaims my boss. "Anyway, where the hell have you been? I want you do tea and coffee at the interdepartmental meeting on the fourteenth floor at ten."

"What? Tea and coffee?" I say, puzzled.

"And biscuits," he says.

"Yes, of course," I automatically reply before it hits me. "Isn't this the kind of thing Fiona used to do? I mean, are you going to hire a replacement?" And looking at his face, I can tell they're not.

"You _are_ going to replace Fiona… aren't you?" I say with alarm, because guess who gets all her duties if they never replace her. Ding ding ding… me.

"Of course… Probably," Fabian says after a pause. Obviously growing uncomfortable, he sighs. "I don't have time for this! William Weasley is coming to the meeting, and I've got lots to do-"

"What!" I say, realizing that William is going to be stuck in meetings all day… on the fourteenth floor… and I'm going to be stuck there with him unless I can get out of it right now!

"Mr. Weasley is going to be at the meeting, so hurry up!"

"Do I have to go?" I burst out before I realize how idiotic that sounds.

"WHAT?"

"I'll erm… be there," I mumble, wondering where I went wrong this morning. I head to my desk and drop off my things, quickly scanning a memo on my desk before rushing to the lifts. I jab the down button because there's absolutely no way I'm jogging ten flights of stairs to arrive at the meeting sweaty and out of breath. A moment later, the doors open.

No. No.

This is a bad dream.

William Weasley is standing alone in the lift, wearing a dark pinstriped suit looking devilishly handsome, his fang earring at odds with his professional attire. Before I can stop myself, I take a step backwards, causing him to give me a quizzical look.

"Are you getting into the lift?"

"Um…" and I realize I'm buggered. I can't say, 'No, I just pressed the button for fun, haha!' Resigned to my fate, I step into the elevator and move as far from him as possible, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach.

"I'm… I'm sorry for skiving… it won't happen again…" I finally manage.

"Not a problem, I skived off my fair share…" he replies, and I almost feel my jaw drop. "When I was headboy, I used to sneak off to Hogsmead with a couple of friends during potions…" Even if it's a lie, it makes me feel a bit better, and I smile at him.

"So, your colleagues seemed a very agreeable lot," says Bill as the lift stops and a few airplanes hovering above our heads fly out. "Are they like that all the time?"

"Absolutely!" I say immediately. "We enjoy cooperating with one another in an integrated, team based… um…" I pause and realize his eyes are twinkling and he _knows_ I'm spouting bullshit. "OK. In real life, they're nothing like that. Fabian shouts at me about six times a day. Shawn spends half his day reading the sports section, and Ferris isn't having a good day unless someone cries. It's usually me. And poor Robert usually gets some sort of howler from his wife about a family emergency once a week. We don't usually sit around discussing literature. We were all faking it."

"I thought so. I guess Selwyn hasn't changed much since Hogwarts, not that she likes to recall me, the poor Weasley boy. Robert showed me the pigmy puff for his daughter on the way out yesterday," reflects Bill, making me want to grin. "How about the Family Day? Because Percy assured me it was akin to torture and that Azcaban was preferable."

"I adore Percy!" I exclaim with a laugh.

"Yes, it seems like you have a fondness for all my brothers except me," comments Bill, getting closer. I almost think he's going to- when the lift doors open with a ping, and he breaks away. I freeze.

Andrew is standing on the other side.

When he sees Bill, his face lights up as if he can't believe his luck. And I know, that standing in front of him is his idol, the youngest department head the ministry has ever seen.

"Mr. Weasley, may I take the liberty to introduce myself," says Andrew excitedly shoving his hand in front of Bill's face. I don't move, I don't dare look up, my face is beet red, I know it. My boyfriend caught me almost kissing my boss. I think anyways- because I probably would have jumped him in another heartbeat. Maybe _he's_ part veela! "Andrew Kirke, department of Magical Games and Sports. We're going to the same meeting."

"Pleasure to meet you, Andrew," says Bill. "International Quidditch requires much collaboration with the foreign affairs department."

"You're so right!" says Andrew, thrilled. "In fact, I'm looking forward to discussing the latest budget plans for next year's tournament. We've come up with some very interesting ideas involving your agent placements. You'll be amazed!"

"I'm… sure I will," says Bill. "I look forward to it."

"So… you of course know Fleur Delacour, she's in your department," says Andrew awkwardly as if just realizing I'm in the lift. Why are these so bloody slow.

"We've met," says Bill giving away nothing.

"Er… you still play Wizards chess? I heard you play a mean game," says Andrew stabbing at topics while Bill seems quiet. Andrew makes a gesture that I'm sure every chess playing wizard in the ministry has come to dread as it means Andrew is implying they get together for a game. He lifts his bright orange briefcase, and in horror I see Bill's eyes widen.

… _gave him this lovely leather briefcase for Christmas, but he carries this horrible orange thing because it has a chess board print on the inside, and he can sneak in a game or two in the office or something…_

"Wait a minute!" exclaims Bill, looking over the very blond, veela type Andrew as if for the first time. "You're Ken."

No no no no no no no…..

"It's Andrew, Andrew Kirke-" he corrects.

"I'm sorry!" Bill hits his forhead with his hand, looking upset with himself and flushing a little. "Andrew! Of course… and you… you two," he gestures between us. "are an item?"

Andrew glares at me, and I flush with embarrassment and generally feel uncomfortable. "We're strictly professional," he says coldly, and I know I embarrassed him. He's terribly angry. He's got some veela blood and he could possibly be throwing fire in seconds. "We were involved. But no longer."

He just broke up with me. BY TELLING ANOTHER PERSON!

"That's too bad, you seem rather compatible," says Bill, as if I'm not there. And honestly I wish I weren't. I'm about to cry. Because this has to be the coldest break up ever. We were moving in together five minutes ago.

"Yes, we both love Celestina Warback," says Andrew.

"Is that so?" replies Bill. "You know, I can't think of anything nicer in the world than a shared love of Celestina Warback." And somehow that comment makes me feel a little better. Because I can't stand her! And if that was our magical connection, then maybe this is for the best. I discretely swipe at my eyes.

"Really?" says Andrew, sounding remorseful.

"Absolutely," Bill nods. "And of course sharing a few good inside jokes."

I nearly laugh but it's covered up by the ping and the doors opening. Andrew rushes out and heads to the meeting. "Did I misread that or did he just break up with you?" asks Bill, suddenly stopping me and looking at me intensely, as if assuring himself I'm alright.

"I…" I say looking away. "I'm not sure."

"What a cold bastard!" exclaims Bill. "Am I right in assuming it's because he didn't want to appear to be in an unprofessional relationship with a coworker?" I nod miserably. "Idiot. I guess he's an over ambitious, success driven lunatic?" I nod again. "Love, family, friends… those are the most important things- the only important things. The things that without; your life isn't worth living. Remember that," he says turning and heading to the meeting before I can respond. I wonder why he's here in England.

* * *

I can't cope with this. I just can't cope. As I pour out cups of tea and coffee for the members of the International Intelligence Foreign Relations and Magical Games and Sports Departments, I'm outwardly calm and smiling at everyone and even chatting. But inside I'm all unsettled and confused. I'm Fleur Delacour. No one breaks up with me. Especially to someone else. I break up with them!

And the oddest thing, is I can't seem to care that much other than my wound to my pride. Because what was really so special about Andrew Kirke? And on that note, what's so damn attractive about William Weasley? He hasn't had a decent haircut in years. He wears a fang earring. His sweater yesterday was obviously homemade. But even so, it's like he's some kind of magnet. I'm sitting here, my attention firmly on the tea trolly, and yet, somehow, I can't keep my eyes off him.

It's because of the plane and that phenomenal kiss. It's just because we were in a traumatic situation together… and my lips touched his.

"After the disaster of _last_ year's world cup on our home turf, and the firing of the Prussian Guard, we can't afford to lose this opportunity to take over the security contracts," the head of the sports department is saying.

"It's not in our budget to pay for private sporting event security," William is saying back. "The international quidditch association is only willing to cover half the needed cost, and it is not the English Ministry's job to fund it so that these privately owned clubs can profit even more. Unless they are willing to give us a cut of the profits so we can actually make money on this, the ministry cannot provide. I don't have the resources to loan out a dozen field agents to scope out a new place every year and watch for suspicious behavior for months before this tournament that we aren't even hosting!"

"The league owners are hardly going to pay us to do that little recon security for such a price!" protests Andrew, who happens to be the financial expert on this team from the sports department. "They've agreed to seventy percent of your estimated costs, but feel your costs are too much."

"But my predecessor sat down with the league presidents and the head of the auror departments of several countries and itemized every single security measure that was deemed necessary. The cost of those measures has been determined and now they're not willing to pay!"

"They feel the price per agent is elevated, and that actual costs could be much lower. They feel that you're proposing too high salaries for people who will mostly just sit around and observe."

"We're sending them to a foreign country away from friends and family and the familiar, we have to compensate them. No rational, _qualified _Englishman or woman would take such a job without adequate compensation."

"Well what do you expect me to present to the International League next week?"

"Look, we can't afford to cut thirty percent of our budget! This is going to be the bill, and they agreed to pay for it. If they're backing out now, they're breaching the contract and we are within our rights to tell them to find another country or company to manage their security."

The argument is getting heated and I can tell Andrew has forgotten exactly who he is talking to. I glance at the budget again, laid out on the parchment in front of me. The international quidditch tournaments obviously need to be well prepared, months of security during the set up. There need to be eyes about to watch for suspicious activity within the host country as a terrorist attack would need to be highly organized, well networked, funded. And those working to sabotage such an event would most likely be within the host country. A lot like the undercover work William is renowned for in Egypt. And that stuff isn't easy to finance… _finance_. I pluck up the courage to speak. I take a deep breath.

"You know," I say loudly, causing all eyes to swivel to me, seated next to my tea trolley and the lowest person here. "These agents will need covers for being in the country, but what if we arranged covers that payed part of their salary so the ministry wouldn't have to put it in the budget but they would still be just as well compensated for their duties. Because really, rather than paying them to tour and do nothing, we could strategically place them in widespread companies, I mean… we could do this with any agents, not just… ones doing … quidditch recon.." I trail off at the angry and exasperated looks directed toward me. Andrew in particular is glaring at me as I have obviously cut him off before he could rebuttle William's argument.

"With all due respect, Fleur," says Andrew. "But you are hardly well educated enough on this topic to even be here besides serving the tea." I do think that was the wrong thing to say as I can see some of the rude looks have been redirected to him. Even pompus ministry workers don't appreciate anyone disrespecting a lady like he has. William looks livid.

"An excellent idea, but we can hardly position them in a foreign ministry or any other important company due to the limitations of having two government jobs with ties to each government. Where do you propose we place them, highly qualified witches and wizards in their own right working in cafés or clothing shops?" laughs the representative of the Auror department, who obviously hasn't realized I'm only here to serve tea.

"Erm… I was thinking banks," I say after an awkward pause. "They are in every country, easy to infiltrate, make good cover jobs with normal hours and plenty of off time, and often are looking to hire foreigners and bilingual speakers with minor qualifications of math, perhaps some wand work or ruins expertise, and the ability to be reliable. I should think… agreements could be made with the four major banks of Europe and with some persuasion, those of Asia if necessary. I don't believe any are hosting anytime soon in that district."

Heads are nodding around the table, and Bill is smiling now. Andrew looks livid, and I have the childish notion to stick my tongue out at him.

"The idea has more promise than talking circles around this budget impasse," says the aged Auror. "Someone find out what the average banker makes a year and how many openings for foreigners usually come up in banks every year, and we can sort this out in a few days before the contract meeting with the league."

"11,000 galleons a year, subject to increase with length of service and good work. The average bank has anywhere from four hundred to fifteen hundred workers in any nation at one time, excluding Gringots which has much less human workers, particularly in England due to their mostly goblin workforce and low number of banks within the country, the sole one being Gringots. The average bank, also excluding Gringots, has close to ten percent turnover yearly, so hiring would not be an anticipated problem if we assign agents that are also qualified to be bankers or bank secretaries," I rattle off without thinking. Literally every jaw in the room has dropped, including Andrew and William. There's a horrible pause, and I think every inch of me is blushing.

"I'll have my department put together a team to see how feasibly we can set up something before the recon for next year's cup in Prussia will be. We'll have everything ready by the meeting, and from the sound of it, we could cut our budget almost in two if we say the bank salary of 11,000 galleons a year would cover the entire salary of 10,000 galleons a year that the ministry was planning to pay any agents. The logistics need to be worked out, but I think the idea has promise. Thank you, Miss Delacour," says William looking like I just handed him the key to a million galleon vault. Everyone else puts in their agreement and is looking at me differently, but I'm too dazed that I actually spoke up with an idea and everyone agreed. Fabian is looking at me like I've grown another head. He will have to promote me now!

**PLEASE PLEASE review! I swear it keeps me on track with posting more! Also remember to check my new fic. If you like this, I think you'll like The Undomestic Witch too! Ellie**


	9. Chapter 9

_Read, Review and Enjoy!_

Arriving at home, I find the apartment in a bit of a frenzy. Audrey is on standing on the couch trying to help Perpetua into the tightest black suede dress I've ever seen.

"Wow," I say, dropping my bag.

"Isn't it amazing?" asks Perpetua, smugly.

Audrey struggles a few seconds, and I'm about to offer help when Audrey hops off the sofa with a flourish, obviously pleased at getting the zipper done. "There! That's the zipper done. Can you breathe?" asks Audrey.

Perpetua doesn't move a muscle, and Audrey and I glance at each other.

"Perpetua!" Audrey says in alarm. "Can you breathe!"

"Kind of," she replies at last. "I'll be fine." And very slowly, she heads to the other side of the room to get her bag. She can barely bend to get it from the chair she left it.

"What happens if you need to go to the loo?" I say, wondering who she's going out with that she's so dressed up for tonight. Honestly, the things this girl does to get a rock on her finger.

"Or go back to his place!" jokes Audrey with a giggle. Of course Perpetua would never go back to his place. Not IF she wants to marry the man.

"It's only our first date! I'm not going back to his place!" Perpetua squeaks in horror, clearly disregarding my practical question. "Mummy says it's not the… the…. Way to…" she's struggling for breath. "Get a ring on your finger."

"What if you get carried away with desire for each other?" says Audrey, who I now know is purposefully needling Perpetua.

"What if he gropes you beneath the table?" I say joining in.

" He's not _like _that. He happens to be the Senior Undersecretary of the Minister himself, actually," says Perpetua.

I start laughing, almost uncontrollably.

"Fleur, don't laugh," says Audrey. "There's nothing wrong with being a secretary. He can always move up, get himself a few qualifications," she adds, not realizing just how important this secretary's work is and how qualified he is.

"Oh ha ha, very funny. Daddy thinks he'll be minister someday. I don't think you'll be laughing then!" snaps Perpetua, still struggling for air, and her face redder than normal.

"That's just it! I believe you! He'll be minister, I'd bet my bottom dollar!" I say between laughs. There's no way Perpetua knows who her date is really with. "Oh my Merlin, you really honestly can't pick up your bag!" I exclaim, seeing her struggle.

"I can!" Perpetua protests, snatching her bag by the tips of her long fake nails with a look of glee. She looks triumphant as she pulls out her wand and casts what appears to be a cooling charm.

"What if he suggests dancing?" asks Audrey, still not buying it. "What will you do then?"

A look of total panic crosses Perpetua's face, but then disappears. "He won't, Englishmen never suggest dancing," she says, and I have to agree, especially if it's the Englishman I think it is.

"Yes, especially not Percy Weasley," I say.

"What are you on about, as if I would ever date a _Weasley_," sneers Perpetua, proving that her father set this up without her knowing who her date really was.

"I'm quite sure he's the only senior undersecretary to the Minister," I say with a grin.

"But he's… daddy would _never_ set me up with a _Weasley!_ Red hair, poor, odd!" she says appalled. There's a knock at the door, and I know it's him, ever prompt and it's six-thirty on the dot.

"See for yourself," I say, and go to answer the door, but moving awfully fast for how tight her dress is, Perpetua blocks the door.

"I… No!" she exclaims looking out the peephole to see what I assume to be the handsome red head. And I really do think Percy is handsome.

"I _do_ work in the ministry. He's a really really nice guy, you'll like him," I say to reassure her, but I can tell she's going to be terrible to him. No! Not Percy! He… he's so handsome and sweet, and his heart was just broken by my other good friend. I can't let bitchy Perpetua hurt Percy more than Penelope already has!

"That's all good and well, but I think I'm feeling a bit under the weather all of a sudden," she says with a disgusted look as if to say _those things don't matter!_

"You can't stand him up!" I protest, and I vaguely wonder if he can hear our argument through the door.

"I can and I will, watch me!" she says pushing me aside and opening the door.

"Hello?" she says.

"Hi, I'm Percy Weasley, and you must be Perpetua Avery?" comes the dignified deep voice of Percy.

"Yes, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel. I don't think things are going to work out tonight-or ever."

"Oh, I hope everything is alright?" he says, ever the concerned gentleman.

"She's just going to a funeral of a distant relative!" I interject, swooping in before she can say something that makes her sound ridiculous. "In Bulgaria! Last minute owl, and all! But! Our flatmate Audrey would love to go out tonight!" I interject before I can reconsider what I'm saying. Clearly the excuse Perpetua is ill would be a weak one considering what she looks like. I glance at Audrey who is looking shocked and giving me a look that she might just kill me.

"I know you probably have a reservation, but if you don't mind waiting just a few minutes, Audrey will be ready. Can I offer you a drink? And Perpetua, don't you need to be flooing to Bulgaria right about now?" I have officially commandeered the situation. But Percy looked so handsome, and so… I couldn't let him go the restaurant and eat by himself, which seems like something he would do. I flick my wand to the kettle to start getting Percy some tea before he can answer, and herd Audrey into her room with a look at Perpetua that clearly says _play along,_ and _you owe me._

"What was _that_?" demands Audrey quitely as I shut the door behind her and throw myself into her closet, grabbing a dress I know she looks particularly great in.

"_That_ was me getting you a date with a hot red head! Perpetua may think she's above him, but I happen to know he's an amazing man. And if I didn't love you so much, I would take him for myself!" I say, thrusting the dress in her hands and getting on my hands and knees to look for a pair of shoes.

"You have Andrew, what would you even do with a man like Percy?" she says with a sigh. "But I admit, he is absolutely delicious looking! I should pop by the ministry more often if all the men who work there look like that!"

"No, just the Weasley ones," I mutter, as I sift through her jewelry. "Do me a favor and snog him long and hard for me! I got dumped in a lift through a conversation Andrew had with my boss this morning. I plan to live vicariously through you for a while when it comes to my sex life," I say to her, causing Audrey to gasp in shock.

"Andrew dumped you!" she says as I flick my wand at her hair and settle on a style I like. She has perfect hair anyways, so it isn't hard.

"It hurt my pride more than my heart, but I do hope you know how much better I'll feel about the whole thing if you give Percy Weasley a chance. I can't think of a better date for you actually!"

"Fine, I'll go out with the man, and we'll see where things lead. I'll have you know if he's absolutely boring, you'll owe me!"

"Believe me, I think you'll be the one who owes me!"

"Percy!" I say coming back out into the parlor, seeing the shell shocked redhead looking very confused as he sits on our sofa with his untouched tea in front of him. He looks up, and I can see he can tell that Perpetua ditched him entirely. He's not one to pull one over on.

"Fleur, right?" he says. We've only met twice, and Penny didn't like us talking so I'm not surprised he doesn't entirely remember me. "It's really not a big deal, you don't have to have your poor roommate go on a pity date with me because Perpetua Avery decided to stand me up. Her father set us up anyways."

"What _are_ you talking about! Audrey is ever so excited to go out tonight. She had nothing better to do than inventories she brought home from work. Do me a favor and take her out! I'm tired of seeing her moping around the house. You're doing _me_ a favor!"

"I'm sure she's a nice girl, and that's why she's agreed, but really I can deal well with rejection."

"Well, I don't! If I got dressed up for you to tell me that you're going to reject me, then I'm going to be a bit miffed," says Audrey, emerging from her room and looking lovelier than ever. I'm sure Percy's eyeballs just about popped out of his head seeing the shapely redhead emerge from her room in the pretty blue dress I found for her.

"And, as you can see, she's got a redheaded temper so you better not stand _her _up. I won't wait up!" I say pushing them out the door. I have a good feeling about this. I've just collapsed on the couch, finally about to relax and unwind after my long day when Perpetua pokes her head out her bedroom door.

"As long as they're gone, there's a party I can go to instead. I'm sure there will be some very nice business owners there, and _none_ of them are _Weasley's_,"she says with what could be considered a grateful look before she heads out, a bit slowly as her dress is clearly still too tight. That's all the thanks I'm going to get. I hope she busts a seam.

_I know, no Bill and Fleur goodness, but this chapter was irresistable. So that's my take on how Percy and Audrey ended up on a first date! Please review- I love to hear from you! Also it speeds things up! And thanks!_

_Ellie_


	10. Chapter 10

_Enjoy this chapter! Please review!_

I'm considering getting up to make myself some hot chocolate when there's a knock on the door, and Andrew lets himself into the flat. I look up as he walks into the room and immediately sit up, wondering what the hell he's doing here.

"Hi," he says tentatively, and I wonder what he's doing here. "I thought I would come by and apologize for today."

"Apologize?" I ask, wondering if I'm getting a post break up apology for him acting like a jerk in the elevator.

"Yes, I mean, I didn't really… Whatever, shall we go?"

"Go?" I ask, wondering what he's on about.

"To look at the flat in Snorkack? Oh, and my mother's given us a housewarming gift. It was delivered to work this afternoon," he says holding up a box and pulling out a glass teapot with Celestina Warback's face painted on the side. "It sings when the water starts to boil! Quite amazing, right?"

"You broke up with me!" I say, appalled to realize he thinks we're still together after the incident this afternoon.

"No, I didn't, I mean, that was just talk in the elevator to appear professional. I didn't really break up with you, Honey," he says with a veela charmed grin.

"Oh, so we're still together?"

"Yes, Honey," he says with a smile, walking to the couch and handing me the teapot before he kisses me on the top of my head. "Now, are you ready to go?" he gets up to go to the fireplace and floo to the flat.

"Andrew… I can't do this," I say, startling myself.

"It's quite easy, just say 312 Snorkack Appartment 13."

"No, I can't move in with you."

"What? Has something happened?" and it just goes to show how oblivious he is that he thinks nothing is wrong.

"I've been having doubts about us for a while, and recently they've been confirmed. I mean, you broke up with me this morning in an elevator by telling another person! If we carry on, I'll be a hypocrite."

"I just told you I wasn't really breaking up with you!"

"But I want to break up with you," I get out through my tight throat. My eyes are firmly fixed on the carpet.

"You're joking!" he says, having the nerve to laugh. His ego is astounding.

"I'm not joking!" I say agrilly. He is starting to look sad, and I wonder how I thought this would go when I realized if he hadn't already broken up with me than I would have to dump him. That he would say 'Hmmm… yes, good idea'?

"But this is ridiculous! No one breaks up with me!" He's now pacing the room like an agitate sphinx. His head snaps up, and he looks at me. "It was that muggle plane journey! You've been off ever since that trip to France!"

"No I haven't!"

"Yes, you have! You've been edgy and tense! I think you suffered some sort of trauma! We'll get you counseling!"

"I don't need counseling!" I protest. "But maybe you're righ! Maybe the plane ride did affect me. Maybe it put things in perspective. We aren't right for each other!"

"But things were great!"

"No… they weren't!"

"Is there someone else?" he demands, looking angry.

"NO!" I say. "I…"

"This isn't you! No one breaks up with me! I'll take you to St. Mungo's!" he takes my hand, and I throw the teapot I'm still holding as hard as I can toward the wall. Stunned, he watches it bounce onto the floorboards.

"It was supposed to break," I say picking it up and looking at it closely. There's only a hairline fracture in it. "It was supposed to signify that we were broken."

"I could reparo it!" he says, pulling out his wand.

"No," I say. "It's charm resistant."

"Spellotape it!" he says. "We could still use it-"

"No," I repeat. "It wouldn't be the same. It would never be right. It wouldn't… work!"

"I see," he says after a long pause. "Well… I'll be off then… have a nice life… enjoy loneliness! I hope you realize I was the best you'd ever have, and I can do better!" I can tell he's going to be quite bitter over this. "I'm keeping the Celestina Warback tickets!" He storms out the door, tossing his key on the table and summoning the hideous teapot and hugging it to his chest as he leaves. He actually is quite upset.

Good riddance. I never wanted to go anyways! I watch the door slam behind him and only feel the slightest remorse that his feelings were hurt. After all, what did he expect after today? I am certainly over him!

* * *

Thursday is miserable. No one can believe that Andrew and I have broken things off, and everyone knows because apparently Andrew missed his true calling. Clearly he was meant to run the gossip mill at the Ministry. _Everyone knows._ Although, no one seems to know about the incident where he dumped me in the elevator but then said just kidding at my apartment only hours later. All anyone knows is that in an apparent "fit of insanity" I threw over Andrew- the handsomest, lovingest, most wonderfullest boyfriend to walk the earth. Merlin's gift to women himself!

I swear, the looks I get at lunch from half the female population are almost painful. I'm guessing they hate me not only for throwing over the handsome, wonderful Andrew, but also for being single. Because, I will admit that the only thing most witches hate more than a veela who is dating the most eligible bachelor around is a single veela.

The only thing that makes Thursday at all enjoyable is Audrey's joy at finding the love of her life, thanks to moi! She recounts her date with Percy, and I'm fairly sure that her feet still aren't on the ground a day later. Apparently, he took her to a fabulous restaurant that requires a reservation weeks in advance, although she seems to forget that he originally planned the date with another woman. Then, in a total shock to me, both as a French woman and someone who vaguely knows Percy Weasley, he took her _dancing_. This was apparently somewhat impromptu, and not something he had specifically planned- before he took her back to his place where they had tea and a dessert that he apparently cooked himself. She claims that he was incredibly romantic, they had loads in common, in particularly when it came to interests such as books, and there was an instant connection. I was able to infer that he is an amazing kisser, and that they are already planning a second date this weekend. This was all a shock to me because according to Penny, Percy couldn't and wouldn't dance, didn't have a romantic bone in his body, and could barely feed himself let alone make a pie. She never told me much about the kissing thing, but if Percy's lips are as lovely as Audrey says, I can't imagine anyone breaking up with the man, let alone for a muggle. I try not to let Audrey know, but I'm insanely jealous and regretful that I handed off what will likely be my only opportunity for a date with such a handsome, intelligent, red-haired gentleman. I swear, Audrey is already naming all seven of their children! Clearly I lost my chance with Percy once and for all. Audrey is so sweet and smart and wonderful, I'm sure he's just as lovestruck. He better be!

* * *

Friday morning, I decide to walk to work, hoping that it will help make today better than yesterday. On the way in, I fantasize about getting a promotion as soon as I walk into work. Fabian will pull me right into his office and tell me that the idea I came up with at the meeting on Wednesday was pure genius and they've decided to let me head the entire operation. I'm going to be in charge of all dealings with the banks and the undercover work involved in communicating to the bank placed agents. I'll get to travel. I'll get a huge raise. And I'll get a nice new shiny desk with a nameplate that reads _Fleur Delacour International Executive_. And for good measure they'll make Ferris my assistant.

My fantasy morning is much better than my actual morning. Apparently someone got into our office last night, or this morning. My chair was jinxed to collapse as soon as I sat down, and I spill burning tea all over myself. Ferris had the gall to laugh! Then, my ink, which was lovely purple ink that Gabi gave me for my graduation explodes in my face. I'm willing to bet someone arranged that too. I end up spending half the morning in the loo trying to get the stains out of my clothes and fix my appearance. Plus, I've been asked for several archived files that I had to go all the way down to the bottom floor to get from the dusty archives. The lift was broken, and I had to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs three times!

By two thirty, when Fabian tells me that I'm needed in Mr. Weasley's new office, I'm more than a little apprehensive. Finding it unguarded by a secretary, I knock on the door, and am called right in. William is sitting behind a big wooden desk, looking deliciously messy. His tie is loose, his blue shirt that matches his eyes is rolled up to his sleeves and a bit wrinkled. Even a few strands of his brilliant red hair have escaped his pony tail and are framing is face in a way that just makes me want to run my hands through it. This may have just made my day being able to oogle him.

He shuffles through some papers for a minute before he looks up, his blue eyes warm, and I feel myself melt… just a bit.

"Hello," he says in that lovely Scottish accent of his.

"Bonjour," I reply. "So, Fabian said you asked for me?"

"So I heard you broke up with Andrew," he says at last.

"Apparently the scene in the elevator was merely a front. He didn't really chuck me."

"I see, and are you OK?"

"I'm fine. I decided I was rather enjoying being single and told him that I wanted to end it when he said we weren't really over. You know… the freedom and flexibility."

"Then maybe this isn't a good time to… It's too bad the whole ministry doesn't know the real story," he says, and I see understanding in his eyes. He knows what people have been saying about me. A small part of me is upset that he feels any pity for me, but another part, the larger part is happy to know that at least one person is on my side.

"Yes, the whole We Hate Fleur Delacour Club could disband," I say hoping that joking about it will ease some of the hurt.

"I know you must be hurting right now," he says carefully. "But… I was wondering." He pauses for what seems like forever. My voice is lost and I feel my veela nerves setting in, my nails need redone. "Would you like to have dinner sometime?"

OH MY MERLIN! WILLIAM WEASLEY my _bad boy redhead dream man _JUST ASKED ME OUT! I almost can't move my mouth.

"Oui! I mean yes!" my answer is a little overeager. "Yes, that would be lovely."

"Great!" He grins and I can't help but think how handsome he is as I grin back. He pauses, fiddling with a quill. "The only thing is, this might be a little complicated right now. And with the office situation, and all the gossip… I would hate for this to…."

"It might be an idea to keep this to ourselves," I agree. "We should be discreet." I practically grew up with an implicit understanding of just how discreet work relationships needed to be. Yet another thing that was so wonderful about banking.

"So, shall we say… how about tomorrow night? Would that suit you?"

"Tomorrow night would be perfect," I say with a huge smile that I'm sure is just oozing veela charm. I can't help it. However, William seems surprisingly unaffected as he grins back at me.

"I'll come and pick you up if you could just owl me your address. I'll be over say? Eight?"

"Eight it is!" I reply giddy with happiness. As I practically skip back from William's office, I get a few questioning looks. I don't say anything and head back to my desk, trying as hard as I can to bottle up the veela inside of me. However, excitement is bubbling away inside of me, and a huge smile keeps breaking through.

OH MY MERLIN! I'm going to dinner with William Weasley! I just…. AHHH!

_Review before Enjoying the next chapter, please! Thanks! Ellie._


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter was sooooo hard. I had really bad writers block with this story. Only finished With a lot of help from Sophie and JK. Enjoy!**

"You're mad," says Perpetua, sitting on my bed watching me get ready for my date almost disinterestedly. I'm surprised, but for once she's not dolling up. Apparently some big quidditch league owner's son was supposed to take her out tonight, but he is in St. Mungo's, so she just visited him this afternoon instead. She's going over to Mummy's for a girls night spa and makeover bonding session. She's bound to come back with loads of irritating 'advice'. "You do realize you had him?" She says flicking her wand at her toenails to change the color of her polish for the eighth time in the past five minutes. Baby Blue. "I would have predicted a rock on your finger by New Years!"

"I thought you said I ruined all my chances by agreeing to move in with him!" I say rolling my eyes while she is still fixated on her nails. Turquoise.

"Well, in Andrew's case, you would have been safe," she replies shaking her head. Quaffle Red. "You're crazy!"

"Do you think I'm crazy?!" I ask Audrey who is also primping, but is doing it in my room so we can all be together.

"Er… no!" Audrey answers unconvincingly as she curls her eyelashes. "Of course not!"

"You do!"

"You just seemed like such a great couple," she sighs. "Besides, now you're going to have to deal with guys hitting on you left a right, and we know how much you hate being single."

"I don't hate being single!" I protest. They both give me looks, and I shrug. "Okay, but I have a date tonight!"

"Oh! You aren't just going out?" asks Perpetua, perking up immediately. "You're wearing _that_ on a first date?" she says looking at the outfit I have laid out. If we're being honest, I am going to sneak something out of her closet after she leaves for her mum's.

"Yes, I quite like it," I say, looking at the dress. It's a little black dress that isn't exactly my favorite, but it looks first date appropriate enough that she shouldn't question it. At least, I didn't think she would.

Perpetua's eyes narrow, and I secretly think she would have been a good auror. "You're not going to borrow anything of mine?" she says.

"NO!" I say indignantly. "Honestly Perpetua, I have my own clothes you know!"

She screws her face up and stares at me for a few seconds before seeming content. I wonder if she's secretly trying legimency. If so, good luck reading my veela brain. No oculamency required.

"So who is it?" she asks, ever ready to pry.

"William Weasley," I say, holding back my smirk as Audrey gasps and starts clapping her hands.

"HE'S SUCH AN IMPROVEMENT OVER ANDREW!" Audrey squeals. "And we could be sister-in-laws!"

"I know! Just think, if Andrew and I were still together, I wouldn't be going out on a date with my dream man!" I say.

"Doesn't…. But he knows all your secrets!" says Perpetua. Both she and Audrey are fully aware of the humiliating situation. However, right now she's looking at me as if I told her I'm going out with Voldemort himself. "You told him all your secrets on that plane!"

"And he still likes her enough to ask her out!" says Audrey happily. "Isn't it romantic?!"

"You're joking aren't you?" Perpetua finally decides.

"No, why would I be joking!?" I say. Surely she doesn't think I would make up a date with William Weasley.

"You're going out with a wizard who knows _everything_ about you!? Plus he's a _Weasley!_" I almost forgot she thinks Weasleys are beneath us.

"Yes," I say with a grin.

"And you're asking me what's the _problem!?"_ she says incredulously. "You ARE crazy."

"Of course I'm not crazy!"

"I _knew_ you fancied him! This is so perfect! No wonder you offered me Percy!" laughs Audrey.

"Fleur! You don't tell men all about yourself! You have to keep something back! Mummy says you should never let a man see your feelings or the contents of your handbag!"

"Too late, he's seen it all!" I laugh as I finish my make up. I think I've also picked out the perfect charm to get my hair just right.

"Then it's never going to work! He'll never respect you!" she argues. "Don't you understand!? You've already lost!" Perpetua exclaims.

"I haven't lost!" I protest. What _is_ she talking about? Losing? Winning?

"You aren't being all that helpful," Audrey finally puts in. "Why don't you give Fleur some helpful advice? You're always going out on dates."

"It's a hopeless cause, but I'll do my best," she says with a huge sigh. "The first thing is to be as well groomed and beautiful as possible."

"Please, part veela!" replies Audrey with a roll of her eyes. She often likes to rub it in Perpetua's face that I'm the prettiest roommate, while I don't exactly think that's true. Perpetua is much better dressed and groomed, and I just think Audrey's hair is so pretty. Mine is just… blonde… and pretty… but blonde.

"Fine, okay, you can show an interest in his hobbies. What does he like?"

"Ahh… he loves playing quidditch, I think. Especially flying! I remember hearing that while he didn't play in school, he did sub a game when his brother begged him, and that he always keeps a broom. I guess he's a really decent chaser?"

"Well then, pretend to like playing quidditch. Suggest pulling together a pick up match sometime… you could go see a professional match sometime."

"I can't…" I say taking a sip of my pre-date relaxer gillywater. "I told him on the plane that I'm deathly afraid of flying and that there is no way I would ever get on a broom since I consider them flying death traps."

"You did what!?" Perpetua exclaims. "You told the man you're dating that you hate his favorite hobby!?"

"I didn't know we were going to date when I met him! I thought I would never see him again!"

"And you shouldn't have! You should have obliviated him then and there to prevent crap like this from happening!"

"Perpetua!"

"Whatever, I've got to go… good luck… This is a disaster… you're completely vulnerable! It's like going into a duel without a wand!"

"This isn't a duel! This is dinner between two people!" I exclaim after her as she huffs out the room. *POP*

"I think it's going to be the perfect date!" Audrey says encouragingly. "There won't be any of that awkwardness. He already knows what you like, and you're already compatible!"

"So…"

"Wait for it…" she says, flicking her wand at her nails to change their color.

*POP*

We hear Perpetua back in the apartment.

"She's trying to catch us…" I whisper just before she pops her head in the room.

"I forgot my wand," she lies with an easy smile before popping back out again with a loud crack. We collapse in giggles…. Because she clearly apparated in and out of the apartment… without her wand? SURE!

We wait a few more minutes, and it's obvious she isn't coming back. "Right… let's go," says Audrey finally. I grin and toss back the rest of my gillywater.

We unpeel the spellotape from Perpetua's door, and Audrey makes a little mark where it was. I manage to detect a very simplistic ward and easily disengage it before we push the door open.

"There has to be some more booby traps," says Audrey, looking around the room. "Spellotape on the wardrobe too, and a glass of water ready to drench us when we open the door!"

"You should have been a spy!" I laugh and levitate the cup down before checking for more wards. I know from experience that Perpetua isn't the best with charms or spellwork, so I'm not surprised when I don't find any.

"She's such a cow! I had to spend all evening yesterday fielding owls for her, and she wasn't even grateful."

I throw open the wardrobe, and we both let out little gasps of awe. No matter how many times we raid Perpetua's closet, it never gets old. Perpetua's wardrobe is like a high security vault. New, shiny, gorgeous clothes, all neatly folded and hung on padded hangers. All the shoes in shoe boxes with pictures on the front. All the belts are hanging neatly from hooks. All the bags are neatly lined up the a shelf. And everything is sorted according to item type and color. It's been a while since we borrowed anything, but every single thing seems to have changed since last time.

"She must spend an hour a day keeping this tidy," I say, thinking of the jumble in my room.

"Oh, she does, I've timed her," laughs Audrey running her fingers over the clothes reverently. I see her linger on a particularly lovely looking green silk dress. I'm going to insist she tries that one on. "So what look would Madam like this evening?" She pulls out a silver sparkly dress and shakes it at me.

I don't wear the silver sparkly dress, but I do try it on. In fact, we both try on quite a lot of stuff, and then put it back _very carefully_. At one point there was an owl at the window who wanted in, and we both jump in terror, then immediately pretend we weren't fazed.

In the end, I go with an amazing blue silk dress with a Grecian flair that goes well with my black short robes if it gets cold. I accessorize with her golden strappy sandal heels from Versaice, and at the last minute, I grab a little black Zambini bag. Audrey ends up choosing the green silk dress from earlier, and accessorizes with some silver shoes and a to die for silver bag. She has a blue wrap that goes well, and in the end we both look fab.

"You look amazing!" says Audrey as I do a little twirl. "A full blood veela couldn't do that dress better justice. I'm sure you look 1000x better than Perpetua in it!" she laughs.

"Do I look too smart?" I say, hoping I'm not overdressed.

"Of course not! Come on- you're going out to dinner with _William Weasley_!"

"Don't say it like that!" I say, feeling my nerves set in. This isn't good. I am _not_ going on a date with a beak or claws. Looking at my watch it's almost eight. OH MERLIN! In the fun of getting ready, I almost forgot what it was all for!

Keep calm, I tell myself. It's just dinner. That's all… KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Fuck!" says Audrey, running to the door. "They're both here at once! Right on time!"

"What? Already!?" I say, finishing up the spells and resetting Perpetua's room to be as it was. I carefully put the spellotape back in place. Later, we'll banish the clothes right back to their proper places so we don't even have to go back in her room. Stashing my wand in my purse, I take a quick glance in the mirror who reassures me with a 'You look breathtaking!'

I feel like I might throw up as Audrey opens the door with a beautiful smile. "Hello!"

I stand there looking like a gawking fangirl as the two dashing redheads file into the room. Percy looks uncomfortable, but William seems totally at ease as he walks up to me with a lopsided grin.

"Hi," he says. "You look very nice."

"Thanks," I reply, almost a little confused that that is all he says. I think I look more than _very nice_. But it's nice that he can be normal. Very nice is a normal thing to say. I've never been on a first date where my date was the first to greet me either. Even with Andrew it took about ten minutes for him to get his bearings. Now I know what it feels like, to have been rendered speechless.

"Percy, Miss Flourish, I hope you have a nice evening. The Dragon's Mate is playing at The Seer's Spirits tonight in case you forgot," says Bill. Percy nods to his brother and I'm not sure what's going on between them. I had heard they didn't even talk. But maybe they both really like that band. If it's anything like the Singing Sorceress, then I'll pass.

"Shall we be off, Miss Delacour?" he asks, presenting an old can of beans. I raise my eyebrows, realizing it's a portkey. I put my hand on it and almost immediately we're whirling through space.

When we land, it takes me a second to get my bearings.

"Are you okay?" asks William.

"Yes! I'm fine!" My voice is a squeak.

"Fleur," says William. "We're going to have fun, I promise. Did you have your pre-date gillywater?"

How did he know- Oh, yes. I told him on the plane. "Yes, I did, actually," I admit.

"Would you like some more?" He pulls out a flask and conjures a glass goblet, pouring me what definitely looks like gillywater.

"Did you get that especially for me?" I ask in disbelief.

"No, it's my favorite too," he says, and his expression is so deadpan, I can't help but laugh.

"I'll try it, I've never tasted this before. I'm more of a firewhiskey man myself." He conjures up a second glass as I start sipping the first one and take in our surroundings. I have no idea where we are, but it almost looks to be the middle of nowhere and is that…

He takes a deep swig and sputters. "Are you serious?!"

"It's yummy! It tastes like Christmas!"

"It tastes like…" He shakes his head. "I don't even want to tell you what I think it tastes like, but I'll stick to my whiskey, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," I say taking another sip and grinning happily. I'm completely relaxed already and this is going to be the perfect date. "But if you don't mind, where exactly are we?"

"Egypt," he says as if it's nothing. It's my turn to sputter.

**So I hope you liked this chapter! Please review before reading the next chapter! **

**Thanks Ellie**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for the reviews for last chapter! Enjoy this one! Thanks for reading and please review!**

Bill and I walk hand in hand together through the streets of the Egyptian city. It's clearly a smaller city, and the streets are narrow and dusty, the buildings older looking with characteristic architecture. The yellow glow from the street lamps that is dancing through the dark night lends a romantic air to the entire atmosphere. I'm entirely enchanted.

"It's kind of a hole in the wall," says William as we come upon a narrow blue door with a small light outside. "It's a local secret, so not many know about it, but the food is fabulous."

"Mr. Beasley!" a large man with a neat beard and a big white smile exclaims in greeting to Bill almost as soon as we walk in the door.

"Horus!"

The two do a manly pat on the back with each other, and we are led from the dimly lit entry into a much larger, golden room lit by oil lamps with white pillars stretching from floor to ceiling and white fabric dramatically draped above the diners heads. The few tables are small and cozy, little islands of golden light in the dim room, many of them set into little alcoves. Most of the women have their hair covered, and I am suddenly self conscious of my own bright golden hair and the fact my legs are bare, along with the majority of my shoulders and arms. From the moment we walk through the door with my western clothing and our light hair and fair skin, we are the center of attention. Bill doesn't seem to notice that my attire is entirely inappropriate for this restaurant and culture. I certainly do, along with every other person in the room. Although the room is plenty warm, I pull on my short robes over my lovely dress. My legs are still bare, but at least my shoulders and arms are covered. I'll cast a cooling spell as soon as I know if this place is magical or not.

"This is so not my world," I mutter nervously to William, but he's busy chatting with his old friend Horus and doesn't seem to hear me as we're seated.

I try not to notice when the older man at the table next to us shoots me a dirty look. His wife doesn't look too happy either, her eyebrows are drawn together and her lips are pursed. I'm sure she isn't making that face because of the food.

Horus smiles after seating us, and suddenly the waiter is there, dancing attendance on us, presenting us with some sort of rolls and napkins and adjusting the flowers at the table.

"So," I say, trying to keep my voice low as not to attract more attention. "What shall we have to drink?"

"Already taken care of," says William with a smile as with a loud pop, a bottle of champagne arrives at the table, clearly by magic. Well question answered about whether this was a magical establishment, but once again people are staring. In the back of my mind I'm remembering that it's against the majority of the people in this room's religion to drink alcohol. I'm starting to sweat, so I cast a discrete cooling charm as William pours the champagne. "I remember you telling me on the plane that your perfect date would start off with a bottle of champagne appearing at the table as if by magic," he says with a grin. I want to smile back, but my throat is suddenly dry. I notice it's French, and taking a sip, it's very sweet and delicious.

"So I did," I say, hoping the low lighting is hiding my flush. I can practically feel the eyes in the room boring into me, most likely wishing me a violent death.

"Cheers," says Bill, clinking my glass loudly, and drawing even more eyes. Surely the other people in the room aren't making as much noise, but I can barely think over the ringing of embarrassment in my ears. I'll be sprouting claws anysecond.

"Cheers," I whisper, taking another sip. It's delicious champagne, it really is. I wonder what all the dark eyes are thinking of us crazy Europeans. My mouth opens of its own accord. "The first time I ever had champagne was when I was six years old-" I start.

"At your Tante Amelia's," continues Bil. "You took off all your clothes and threw them over a cliff."

"Oh yes," I say, realizing my error. "I won't bore you with that anecdote again." I take another sip from my glass and desperately try to think of something to fill the silence. Something he doesn't already know. Is there _anything_ he doesn't already know?! Suddenly all my frantic mind can focus on is intricacies of German verbs. I'm fairly sure William doesn't speak German.

"I've chosen a very special meal, all the best off their menu, which I think you'll like," says Bill.

"Fantastique!" I say, secretly thinking that choosing your food is half the fun of dining out. It's almost my favorite bit. Plus, trying to pronounce the foreign words on the menu might be fun. Except after living in Egypt, I'm sure William knows how already…. So maybe not as fun.

"So, what do you enjoy- in life?" I finally ask rather awkwardly in halting English. For some reason, my words are just begging to come out in German still.

Bill seems to ponder the question for a moment. "I enjoy my friends and family, to a certain extent…." He says the last part with a grin. "I like runes study. I go flying and play quidditch-"

"You love flying!" I exclaim. "That's right…. I really… um…"

"You hate flying, even the idea of it," he states, clearly amused. "I remember."

Damn, I was hoping he might have forgotten, but…. I mean, that was sort of the cause behind the effect of my spilling my guts to him on the plane. Merlin, I hate to admit that Perpetua was right, but it would have been so much easier if I could have said, "Oh, I love flying!"

Oh well. Moving on.

I smell a heavenly scent and realize I'm quite near starved. The waiter has arrived with our first course. And it looks as good as it smells. I'm not quite as disappointed that Bill ordered for me, but still. I'm about to ask him exactly what he did order for me, they appear to be some sort of stuffed tomatoes, when Horus rushes over to our table with a letter.

"Fleur, would you mind if I took this? It looks like it's going to be important," he says with a slight frown. He steps out, and I finish up the first course, which is entirely delectable. The champagne compliments the appetizer surprisingly well, and I glance around, happy to notice that the rest of the room is pointedly ignoring me. Good.

Bill finally returns, a deep frown on his face. Apparently the owl didn't bring good news. "Is everything okay?" I ask.

"Did you like the appetizer? I know you said you liked stuffed peppers and stuffed mushrooms, so I thought you would like this?" he says, entirely ignoring my question.

"It was great," I say, still curious about his disappearance.

"Good, because I think you'll like the main course," he says. "It's fish, which I remember you liking." I put on a bright smile, but he seems a million miles away.

By the time we've finished, I'm miserable and ready to go. He's said barely five words since he got back from his letter. This dinner has been a complete disaster. This date has become a complete disaster. I've made every effort possible to chat and joke and be funny. Bill has taken two more letters, and written at least one. I saw him ask for parchment. The rest of the time he's been broody and distracted, and practically silent. To be honest, I might as well not be here. So much for being an irresistible part veela! I feel like crying with disappointment- not that William would notice. We were getting on so well! What went wrong?! I've tried asking him twice if everything is alright or if there is an emergency or anything, but he's brushed me off or ignored me.

By the time the waiter reappears at our table to collect our plates, I'm near tears and Bill has been practically staring off into space.

"Would you both care for dessert?" asks our waiter.

"No thank you," I say. I've had enough for tonight. I want to go home now.

"Very well, any coffee?"

"She does want dessert," interjects Bill, the most he's said since his first letter.

What?! Why would he say that?!

"No, I don't!"

"Really, Fleur," replies Bill. "You don't have to pretend with me. You told me on the plane. You always say you don't want dessert, but you really do."

"Well, this time I really DON'T!" I snap back, getting angry. The claws are coming out. I'm ready to put away this sham of a night and go. I feel completely patronized. Why should he think to know what I want? Just because I told him a few things on a plane doesn't mean he knows me! Or my mind. Is he suddenly an occulems? Because I can guarantee he needs to practice more if he thinks he is!

I tell him so, pushing my chair back angrily. "Bill, you may know a whole lot of random facts about me, but that doesn't mean you know me!"

"What?" he says, utter bafflement on his face.

This time I remember to yell at him in English. "If you knew me, you would have realized when I go out to dinner with someone, I like them to listen to what I'm saying. I like them to treat me with a bit of respect and talk to me, not just answering their super secret mail and ignoring my questions about it. I want to go out with a person! Not a zombie!"

"Fleur," he says, some of the light coming back to his eyes. "Are you OK?"

"No! You've ignored me all evening! Since you got that bloody owl!"

"That's not fair!"

"What's not fair, is that you've been acting obliviated since the food arrived!"

"Look, something happened, and I'm… I admit, I've been a bit distracted…"

"A bit distracted!" I screech. I am furious, all out angry veela mode. In the back of my mind, somewhere, I realize that the proper Egyptians here are probably horrified by this display, but this was inexcusable behavior. I feel tears threatening, so I decide it's about time to storm out. I so wanted this to be the perfect evening.

"Fleur!" exclaims Bill, tossing money on the table and following me as I storm out of the restaurant into the dark Egyptian night. "You're not seriously going!"

"I am!"

"You have no portkey! You don't know where you are!"

"There has to be a bank somewhere close!" I snap.

"Give it another chance, give me another chance! Please stay! I'll talk!"

"Too late!"

"Fleur," he looks so devastated. For the first time, I think he may actually be affected by my veela looks. "At least let me take you home." I must have been mistaken. I'm sure that's resignation in his eyes.

I nod, after all, I have no idea where I am, where the nearest bank is. What bank it even is… He holds out the portkey to activate it.

In a flash of blue light, we're back in an Alley close to my home. I recognize it by the smell. There's a Chinese restaurant that tosses its trash back here and the dumpster radiates a distinctive smell. I despise Chinese food for this very reason. Fittingly, it's raining. I start stalking in the direction of my flat. Bill must feel the need to follow me, but I don't feel like talking to him, so I ignore him as he rambles to me.

"I'm sorry! I know I was terrible company this evening, but I had some… I had some terrible news. And I'm sorry I can't tell you anything, but there are things in my life, I'm not at liberty to discuss, with you or anyone! And it's very complicated! I'm sure you understand."

I want to say no… no I don't understand. Because I've told you every single little thing about me!

"Look," he says, grabbing me by the shoulders and spinning me around just before I reach the door that leads up to my flat. "Give me another chance, one more try? You don't have to decide now, but promise me you'll think about it? This… tonight didn't go how I planned."

He looks so adorable, his long red hair messed and matted to his forehead, his eyes full of regret, so shiny and blue. I can only imagine what I look like with what I'm sure is a veela beak, claws, and frizzy blond hair glued to my head, which will of course make me look like a drowned duckling… or toad. I manage a nod.

"Owl me… and we'll try again… tomorrow… or… whenever… just… don't let this be the end, Fleur," says Bill. I manage to nod again before spinning on my borrowed heel and slip inside the door. That has to have been the worst date ever. Merlin, I hate when Perpetua is right!

_**So I bet you weren't expecting that... Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it... Please review! I am hoping for 150 reviews by the next update so send me inspiration :) thanks Ellie**_


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